Beauty From Pain
by Gypsy Dreamcatcher
Summary: After the War, Hermione found a way to create beauty from pain. She joined magic and ink to create living tattoos. Can she set aside the past to help Draco find beauty in his seemingly inescapable pain? Rated T for language because let's be honest, I'm crass and can't help it.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! This is a new story I've been working on that's got the potentiometer to be pretty long (if my attention span lasts long enough). Updates will be fairly slow since I'm working two jobs and in school, but I'll do my best. Thanks for checking it out!**

 **Disclaimer: Anything to do with the Harry Potter world is not mine and belongs to the lovely mind of JK Fowling**

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It started out simply enough, though the most complicated things in life usually do. After the Wizarding World had righted itself enough after the Final Battle - no creativity in this lot - she left for the muggle world. Perhaps taking a break from all things magic would be good for her, at least for a little while. It was purely by chance that she stumbled upon a tattoo parlor. Even more so that they offered to cover her scarred arm. She wasn't hiding it, no, but was instead creating something beautiful out of what she considered to be ugly. That the tattoo ended up becoming a mosaic of flora on her forearm was entirely the artist's fault. Watching the flowers come to life on her skin was hypnotizing, and the know-it-all inside her itched to learn such an amazing craft. She apprenticed for a while, building a portfolio that impressed all of her clients, but her never-resting brain kept thinking of the endless possibilities until she was led back into the Wizarding World, wand and ink merging to create both still and moving art. When Draco Malfoy came into her shop and asked her with the most gut-wrenching look if she could cover up dark marks, how could she say now? Everyone deserved a chance to craft beauty from pain.

-..-

It was entirely Theodore Nott's fault. Sure, Hermione had a big heart. And, yes, she could be a sucker for sob stories every now and again. And she's never been known to turn away a client, but all that aside, it was entirely his fault.

He was the first of her old schoolmates to find her small shop tucked into a corner of Diagonal Alley. He'd tentatively stepped into Virago and had nearly run when he saw her behind the counter. Hermione had managed to calm him down and reassure him enough to eventually arrange an appointment for Theo to get a tattoo.

His was the first magic tattoo shed created that spanned an entire arm. His sleeve was beautiful, and Hermione was incredibly proud of it. She'd taken Theo's love of books and her floral style to create a collaboration of Wordsworth, Shakespeare, and Mansfield danced with aloe, borage, and cyprus to create a vision of hope and mourning that hid the dark mark he was so ashamed of.

Word of her ability to cover his shame and create such beauty spread until soon she'd given many reformed death eaters arms to be proud of rather than faded shames to hide. Theo's, being her original, still remained her favorite, and Hermione enjoyed their friendship that grew and he returned to bring friends and add to his sleeve.

It was only because of that friendship that she didn't kick him out of her shop when he came in with Draco Malfoy.

-..-

She struck a fearsome figure with hands on her hips and a spark of anger in her chestnut eyes. It was the first time in a long time Theodore was nervous to enter her shop. Hermione tapped her foot in impatience causing Theo to awkwardly clear his throat.

"I know I probably should have owled first, but I knew you'd probably give me that look in the shape of a well written owl." Hermione arched one eyebrow at him. "But, you told me once that this was a place where anyone from any place could come for help and healing. I'd like to think you really meant anyone."

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sure she'd said that and meant it, but she didn't think she'd one day have to include Draco Malfoy in that "anyone". She knew everyone was redeemable, but a small, petty part of her wanted to punch Malfoy in the face and send him out the door.

And yet.

And yet she couldn't. She couldn't because of the fractured look she saw in his eyes. A sorrow that seemed to echo her past. Tragedy written across such young features that broke her heart. But it was the shadow of hope that made up her mind. She only saw it for a moment, but decided she wouldn't be the one to take even the smallest amount of hope from someone.

She stayed silent long enough for Draco to shuffle towards Theo and tell him they should go before she spoke. "I'm not giving you the Hogwarts discount."

She looked up in time to see a shocked expression crossed Draco's face. She frowned at him and said, "If we're doing this you'll pay in full upfront, and there'll be no insulting it funny business. If you insult me or mine I reserve the right to tattoo the ugliest design on your ass. Understand?" She poked him in the chest for emphasis.

Draco lightly rubbed his chest where she poked him. "Of course, Granger," he mumbled. "I wouldn't... I'd like to think we're passed all that."

Hermione pursed her lips and grunted in skepticism. "Well we'll see won't we?" She turned on her heel and made her way toward the back of her shop.

Theo shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked at Draco as he followed her. "Told you she'd do it."

Draco rolled his eyes at Theo and snarked, "Yes well if I end up with a purple hypogriff or other such nonsense on my person, I'll give Pansy's new spell a try."

Theo blanched and held his hands over the front of his pants. "She didn't actually manage to create that spell, did she?"

Draco smirked as he walked past Theo into the back of the store, "Hopefully you won't find out."

-..-

At some point during their walk to the back, Theo had wandered off mumbling something about a new sleeve and probably starting to do things himself. Ignoring his friend, grey eyes took in every inch of their surroundings, examining art and tattoo examples hung on the walls. The room Hermione led him to was in the very back of her shop. Draco was startled to see a small office space behind the door. Arching a platinum brow, Draco took in the lack of tattoo equipment and overabundance of books. Ignoring his obvious question, Hermione closed the door behind them and moved to the two, small couches facing each other. Seeing Draco lost in his thoughts, Hermione moved quietly around the room gathering art supplies and lighting a scented candle giving the room a more comfortable atmosphere.

The process of Draco finally agreeing to getting his Mark covered had been laborious at best. He'd spent one hour trying to understand what exactly a tattoo was, three hours being convinced to let Hermione Granger of all people do something so permanent to his body, and three weeks trying to come up with the perfect design. He'd come up empty handed. So, when Hermione asked him what tattoo he wanted, a faint flush of embarrassment washed over his pale skin.

"I, um, didn't really know what to expect or what you were capable of doing, so I don't exactly have a design in mind."

A small smile worked its way onto her face while Hermione busied herself with setting up her drawing tools. "That's alright. Tattoos are a new concept for most wizards, so I usually spend most of the first appointment coming up with a design and tweaking it."

She flipped her sketchbook to a blank page and looked at him. Her gaze pinned Draco to his seat and gave him the urge to fidget. Her eyes were so piercing he felt as though his emotions, his thoughts were all open for her to see.

"Getting a tattoo is a very personal decision. I'm going to ask you some questions to get to know you and what you want your design to be. The more vulnerable you are, the more the design will reflect you. Ready?"

Draco slowly nodded his head in affirmation, but his mind was screaming for him to walk out the door and not look back. Was covering his Dark Mark so important to him that he'd willingly become grossly vulnerable with a woman he'd gladly called his nemesis for nearly six years? Was he really willing to give her enough information to ruin him in the hope that she would help him instead even after everything he did to her? He knew he would have to let her into his darkest places because with Granger it had always been all or nothing. He looked down at his covered forearm and clenched his jaw. Yes, he could. He needed this.

During Draco's debate with himself, Hermione watched him and began sketching. She'd had several conversations with Theo while she'd worked on his sleeve that hinted to childhood difficulties for both of the young men, but Theo had been rather tight lipped when she'd asked questions. She was curious but knew she would need to ease Draco into the conversation so as not to spook him. She'd start simply.

Without looking up from her sketch she asked, "What're your three favorite colors?"

Draco looked skeptical at her question. Was she joking? Hermione paused her drawing and arched an eyebrow at him over her book. Apparently not. Draco thought for a second before answering, "Grey, blue, and dark green." He waited for the inevitable comment about being a stereotypical Slytherin, but it never came.

Going back to her sketching Hermione followed with, "And you're favorite animal?"

"A dragon." Draco cringed internally at the cliche he was.

"Favorite childhood memory?"

Draco's brain stuttered to a halt, and his facial expression froze in a blank mask. Favorite childhood memory? Did he have one?

Hermione misinterpreted the panic in his eyes and attempted to make it easier, "If you have too many you can just narrow it down to two or three."

Two or three? Draco's mind spun in chaotic circles of childhood flashbacks, none of them pleasant. He couldn't even come up with one let alone three!

When he didn't answer, Hermione tried to help again. "For example," she set her sketchbook aside and faced him, "one of my favorites is dancing in the kitchen with my Mum while she cooked." She smiles softly at the memory, Draco missed the flash of pain behind her hazel eyes.

That's all? Just dancing in the kitchen. Surely, Draco thought, I have a memory that simple. Thinking back, a small smile worked its way into the corners of his mouth. "My mother and I," he started slowly, "used to sit out on her balcony at night so she could show me all the stars our family is named after."

Hermione a smile widened and she picked up her sketchbook. "That's perfect, Draco!" She began sketching again and asked for another story.

A small voice in the back of his mind enjoyed the way she said his name, but he moved on to more memories. "She used to have me help her in her garden. It was her favorite place because plants were easy and forgiving. They never held grudges." His eyes glazed a little as he thought of his mother. "The only time I ever saw her angry was the time Blaise and I stole our practice brooms from the house and went to play quidditch in the middle of the night. I fell and nearly broke my arm, and out came Mother in her billowing fury. I nearly pissed myself out of fear but was so proud that I'd caught the snitch." He laughed at the memory, forgetting who he was talking to and enjoying the few bubbles of light in his childhood.

Hermione stopped her sketching and looked at the man in front of her. Actual joy written across his features, a smile instead of a smirk, and real light in his eyes for the first time since he entered her shop. Setting her sketchbook down, she smiled at him and said, "Well, Draco, if you're ready I think I've got enough information to start the tattoo." She passed him her sketchbook, "Here's the preliminary idea; obviously you can change it and add to it since it's your tattoo. This is just a general idea to start with." She was cut off when a wall of muscles knocked the breath out of her. It took a few seconds to process before she realized Draco Malfoy was _hugging her_. In shock, she slowly rubbed circles on his back until he pulled away.

Honest tears were gathered in the corners of his eyes as he gazed at her in gratitude. "Hermione," he further shocked her with using her given name, "I can't thank you enough. It's... It's perfect."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This came out A LOT faster than I thought it would! For some reason this chapter just worked. I'm super excited about Draco's tattoo, let me know what y'all think! I may add a few more of the Hogwarts alumns too...**

The design was simple in color being almost entirely black and white, but the collage of images was beautiful. Hermione had taken the skull of the Dark Mark and made it into a small golden snitch. The snake had been transformed into a black dragon twining its body around the snitch, scales glittering and body twitching on the page. The rest of the forearm was covered in white narcissus flowers just like the ones he'd helped grow in his Mother's garden.

Draco stared at the drawing in wonder causing a rosy pink to dust Hermione's cheeks. Proud of his reaction, she elaborated on the tiny details he couldn't see.

"I've added small details that aren't going to show on paper. For example, the center of the narcissus flowers will each have a small star in the center, and at night the stars and flower stems will glow to show the constellation Draco. The snake will slither around the snitch, and the wings of the snitch move as well. If it's too much, we can reduce the movement, or we can add movement to the flowers and things later."

A large grin spread over Draco's cheeks and he asked, "Can we get started?"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly, "You don't want to change anything?"

Draco shook his head. "No. No, Hermione, it's perfect."

Hermione's smile matched his in enthusiasm as she popped out of her seat. "Well then let's get you tattooed!"

-..-

The process of getting his Dark Mark covered had been more painful than Draco was expecting. Everything had been fine before they got to that point. He had watched in fascination as Hermione set up her tools and inked the back of his forearm. He'd been transfixed by the flowers that spread over his skin and the intense look of concentration that graced Hermione's features.

He'd flinched when she'd gently rotated his arms and saw the scars of endless attempts to remove the Mark himself, but he knew she'd seen Theo's which helped ease his discomfort. Her reaction to them was unexpected, but the entire day had been unexpected as a whole. She'd carefully traced her fingers over them, gently running the pad of her finger through the marred hills and valleys of his skin. Then she picked up her tools and kept going, and he was thankful. The pain when she began transforming the skull had been blinding. He'd grunted and tensed, grinding his teeth to keep other sounds from escaping.

"I'm sorry," she spoke for the first time during their session. "I know it hurts. I'll try to be quick, just let me know if you need a break."

"I've had worse," he snapped. And he had, but he was more annoyed with his damned Mark than he was with her.

She rolled her eyes at his bravado while tracing the delicate wings of the snitch. He continued watching her create his tattoo, almost poking fun at the way her tongue stuck out just a bit while she concentrated or the song she randomly hummed under her breath while she changed colors. She was completely absorbed in her work and it was fascinating.

"How did you get into this?" The question was out before he really thought about asking it, but Draco was dying to know what happened to her after the War. He cleared his throat and elaborated, "You disappeared after the War and no one knew where you went. Potter and Weasley knew, obviously" he rolled his eyes at the thought of Hermione's two friends. "They were very tight lipped about it, and then suddenly you reappear with this whole new craft. If you don't mind my asking, what happened in the interim?"

Hermione smiled softly at his question. Setting the tattoo gun down, she grabbed a rag to wipe her ink stained fingers and assessed him. "Tattoos was something I stumbled on in the muggle world while I was," she paused to find the right word allowing Draco to see a look of pain flit across her face. "Taking a break from the Wizarding World. I was so fragile and raw after the War, I needed to take time to rebuild my life and put myself back together. Part of that healing was getting old scars covered and allowing myself to feel beautiful and whole again, and I knew there were so many people who needed the same thing. That's why I made Virago; it's a place for new beginnings."

Draco perked up, "So you have tattoos then?" He glanced down at her arms which were covered in a long sleeve shirt hoping to glimpse her ink.

Hermione smiled slyly and picked up her tattoo gun. "As a matter of fact, I have many."

Draco felt very warm and shifted in his seat at the thought. "Can I," he cleared his throat and tried to ask casually, "Can I see them?"

Hermione's sly grin widened as she restarted her work on his snake. "How about I let you see one every time you let me give you a new tattoo?"

"Deal."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Hermione worked on his arm and Draco attempted to adjust to the pain of his Mark being altered. She finally finished and took out her wand to begin casting the spell a for movement and shine. When she was halfway through making the constellation appear, Theo popped his head into the room.

"Hey, mate, I've got a quick question."

"What?" Draco did a double take at the echoed question from Hermione. "Wait, what?"

Hermione looked up from his tattoo and arched an eyebrow at him. "Theo, who were you talking to?"

Draco arched an eyebrow back. "Obviously me, Granger."

A smirk touched the corner of Hermione's mouth as Theo said, "Actually I was talking to Hermione. I had a question about another tattoo."

Draco squinted his eyes at him in confusion. "Since when do you call her 'mate'? I didn't think you were friends."

"Am I not allowed to have friends, Malfoy? Or are you upset that your friend likes me better than you?"

"That's rubbish. He's only calling you 'mate' because he wants something from you not because you're friends."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Wouldn't be the first time."

Draco sneered, but then Theo flushed at the insinuation causing Draco's jaw to drop in a most undignified manner.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm sorry it took me so long to update, I was trying to get everyone's tattoos designed and sorted out, then college finals snuck up on me, and I've just been a mess. BUT I finished another chapter, so here ya go! Let me know what you think!**

It took Draco three weeks to make it back to Virago but not for a lack of trying. The first time he'd gone back was two days after getting his first tattoo. He'd distracted himself with work in the Malfoy family company before finally caving. When he'd found her store window in Hogsmead he'd stood outside the shop going back and forth in his mind on whether or not he should go in.

Before he could decide, a flash of familiar ginger hair caught his attention. Ginny Weasley walked out of a back room and into the main lobby followed by a laughing Hermione. Ginny was waving her arms in exaggerated movements to go along with the story she was telling allowing sunlight to glint off the gold tattoos of her arms. Draco studied them in fascination admiring the glittering leaves and vines that twined up the girl's freckled arms. How Hermione managed to create such incredible designs with ink continued to baffle him. Draco left the storefront before the women could see him.

The second time he attempted to visit he ran into none other than Luna Lovegood leaving Virago. Before he could walk away or come up with a viable excuse for being there, Luna called out to him, "Why, Draco, fancy seeing you here." She approached him a smile lighting her face. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

A small amount of guilt settled in Draco's chest. Luna had been one of the few classmates who had been friendly to him after the War. As editor of the Quibbler she'd been the only newspaper to paint his trial and subsequent life change as the honest, repentant actions that they were. They had developed a friendship over the last three years which Draco was incredibly thankful for.

"I know, Luna, I'm sorry I've neglected our weekly brunches. Work got away from me and the next thing I know a month has gone by."

Staying true to her nature, Luna smiled and replied, "Not to worry, it's understandable with the amount of wrackspurts you have flying around. They've been causing a ruckus in your mind haven't they?"

Draco allowed a small smile at her antics and nodded, "Of course. They've made life very difficult."

Luna hummed in agreement. "Positive thinking will rid you of those right quick. Is that why you're here?"

Draco scratched the back of his neck and tried to quickly think of an excuse as to why he was in Hogsmead. "Actually, I'm here because - "

"You wish for Hermione to update your tattoo?" Luna interjected smoothly. Realizing he wouldn't be able to lie to the perceptive blonde, Draco nodded. "That's a wonderful idea. Hermione's work is beautiful, really. It would get rid of wrackspurts right away. Would you like to see what she's painted on me? I have two at the moment but she and I are working on a third that I know will be magnificent."

Draco nodded, excited to see more of Hermione's work. "The first one is on my wrist," Luna held out her right hand, palm facing up. Circling her wrist were delicate little runes, no bigger than a knut. Draco gently took her hand and examined the runes, easily identifying the symbols for protection, healing, clarity, and peace. They were a deep blue and were mirrored on the back of her wrist in the same sequence but in moon glyphs. They were incredibly clever, Draco noted, and he would definitely be asking Hermione about them later. "The second one is here," Luna lifted the flowing, wildly patterned skirt she was wearing to expose her right thigh and the artwork adorning it. In the center was a large, dark green triskele designed to appear as if it were made out of vines and leaves. Across the bottom in beautiful, flowing script was the name "Pandora". The surrounding area was covered in an abundance of white and red flowers.

"These flowers here," Luna gestured to the tiny white, bell-shaped flowers, "are lily of the valley which stand for a return of happiness. The red ones are poppy which are for imagination, and these big white ones," Luna pointed to the larger, closed blossoms that seems to move in an invisible wind on her leg, "are Moonflowers which only bloom at night so they're sleeping at the moment."

Draco's fingers itched to reach out and trace the flowers, awed by the color and movement of the design. He hesitated to pry but asked, "And Pandora?"

Luna stilled before a small, sad smile grew on her face. "That's my mother's name. I wanted something to remember her by. Hermione spelled the ink so that it grows warm when I miss her."

Draco rested a hand on her shoulder in comfort. "It's beautiful Luna." He smiled at the little blonde before taking his hand away and clearing his throat. "Since I'm a month behind on our brunches, how would you feel about getting lunch today?"

Luna's eyes lit up and she smiled at him. "Why, Draco, I would love to! But won't you miss your appointment with Hermione?"

"No, I haven't made one yet. I'll go back eventually."

Nodding sagely at the trepidation hidden in his sentence, Luna linked her arm through his. "Well, in that case, to lunch it is!"

The third time Draco tried to visit was with just as little, if not less success. He was pulling on his second shoe fixing to floo to Hogsmead when his fireplace lit up and spit someone out into his flat. Glancing up, Draco took in the petite woman dusting off her robes. "Pansy, to what do I owe the please?"

Pansy finished picking invisible dust off her robes and smiled at him. "Draco, darling, how have you been?"

"I saw you just the other day, Pans, can we skip the pleasantries?" Draco drawled. He draped himself over the couch knowing he wouldn't be making it to Virago today.

Pansy waved her hand dismissively at him and perched on the chaise opposite Draco. "Yes, yes, but that was only for a few moments and Blaise was there. You know he dominates the conversations, I barely got a word in edgewise."

Draco chuckled at their friend's antics. "You did ask what was happening in his life, so you're partially to blame for opening the Pandora's box of drama."

Pansy rolled her eyes in agreement, "Just because I ask how he's doing doesn't mean I need to know every detail from the last year and a half. That was just too much."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched knowing Pansy could be just as bad as Blaise when it came to over-sharing with details that hardly mattered to other people. He stood to get drinks from the bar in his flat and waited for Pansy to explain why she'd come. There was the quiet sounds of glass shifting as he poured their drinks before she finally spoke.

"I visited Granger's shop."

Draco paused in his pouring for a moment to acknowledge her statement and show her his shock before he finished pouring them and turned to face her. "Did you?"

She nodded and accepted the drink he gave her. "It was purely out of curiosity."

Draco retook his seat on the couch and sipped his drink. "Of course."

She took a sip as well, humming at his drink choice, before adding, "She's changed a lot since school." Her eyes shifted to his to see his reaction; noting the lack of confusion or disgust she continued, "She's quite skilled at her craft as well. For Granger."

Draco nodded. "Yes, Theo told me he's become quite a fan."

Pansy's shoulders relaxed minutely as she realized he already knew where this was going and that she wouldn't be the first. "I must admit, I am as well."

Draco allowed a small smile and asked, "Can I assume then that you have a personal art collection now as well?"

Pansy returned his smile and set her drink on the coffee table. Standing to remove her outer robe she agreed, "You would be correct in that assumption." She was wearing a long, dark blue dress with thin straps on her shoulders leaving her arms uncovered. Draco's eyebrows shot to his hairline as he took in her tattoo.

Spanning from her wrist to the shoulder strap of her dress, Pansy had an entire tattoo sleeve covering her right arm. Draco quickly crossed the room to get a closer look and traced a finger gently over the ink. She had roses, thorns, and thistle with purple blossoms weaving from her wrist to her shoulder. On her shoulder was her family crest with her mother's name in beautiful script below it. He ran his fingertip over her mother's name before making eye contact with Pansy's tear-filled eyes. "Pansy, it's..." He was at a loss for words. She just smiled and nodded, understanding the feeling.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm going to have to start calling her Hermione." Pansy laughed lightly as she ran a hand over her arm. "I'm not sure what was more surprising, seeing what she was capable of or seeing the Gryffindor Princess covered in tattoos herself."

Draco's body warmed at the thought of Hermione's tattoos. If he was being honest with himself, getting an addition to his tattoo was only half the reason he had been trying to return to Hermione's shop.

Seeing the look on his face as an opportunity to poke fun at his expense, Pansy smirked. "Draco, does the idea of Hermione having tattoos get to you?"

When his eyes widened a millimeter and his body stilled, Pansy's smirk turned into her jaw dropping. Draco bit back a wince. _Busted_.


	4. Chapter 4

The Cheshire cat grin that slowly spread across Pansy's mouth sent a shiver of fear down Draco's spine. In no way could this bode well for him. Like a shark catching the scent of blood, he watched her mind take hold of the possibility and chase it to all it's possible conclusions. He needed to nip this at the bud before she tried to get involved, but outwitting Pansy was something Draco had never managed to master when they were children. His mind whirled into action to try and come up with a way to divert her attention.

"After all our years at Hogwarts what makes you think my opinion of her has changed?" Draco picked up his drink again as a small barrier between himself and the formidable woman before him.

"Who, Draco?" Pansy asked innocently.

"Granger." He'd hesitated in using her surname a fraction of a second too long, and it was another nail in his coffin.

"Draco, you're an exceptional liar, one of the best, but you can't lie to me. You never could."

Draco set his drink down and released a breath. It was true, Pansy had been his closest friend since childhood and a confidant throughout his years at Hogwarts. There would be no lying to her.

Taking his silence as confirmation Pansy barked a triumphant laugh. "Draco, darling, you _do_ have a heart! And it's infatuated with the little darling lioness. How sweet."

Draco rolled his eyes at her excitement and sneered, "Haven't you heard, Pansy? My cold, snake heart isn't capable of feelings."

Pansy rolled her eyes in return and retorted, "Yes, and you're an insufferable, bigoted pig who never matured past the age of twelve. Can we skip over the sarcastic self-loathing and move on to the more entertaining subject of your infatuation with the brightest witch of our age?" Pansy smirked at him again and held her now empty glass out for a refill.

Draco turned possible responses over in his brain as he rose to fill her drink. "I would hardly call it an infatuation," he replied slowly as he gave her back her drink and returned to his seat.

Pansy took a sip and cocked her head to the side, "But you admit there is _something_ there, yes?"

Draco swirled his drink and mulled it over. Was there something there? He initially pegged it as curiosity in a new craft being introduced to the Wizarding World. Could it be the witch herself that he was so curious about not just the artwork she created?

Pansy spoke gently, "It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing should there be something more than just passing interest. You're allowed to feel for people, Drake."

Draco smiled softly at her. "I know, Pans, and I do feel for people. You annoy me on a daily basis."

Pansy barked another laugh and finished her drink. "The feeling's mutual I assure you. Regardless, if there's a little something poking at you that is even the smallest bit curious about her, you should do something about it. She would be good for you."

Draco tossed back the rest of his drink and considered the idea. Pansy frowned in sympathy as she watched him mentally list all the reasons Hermione would or should want nothing to do with him. "Maybe she would be, but Hermione could do much better than a reformed Death Eater."

"Speaking from experience," Pansy argued, "it's best to let the woman decide what is and isn't best for her."

Draco snorted a laugh and agreed, "Yes, I remember the time Pucey decided he knew what was best for you, and you showed him the error of his ways very quickly."

Pansy groaned at the mention of their former classmate. "Adrian was hopeless when it came to anything that wasn't quidditch, _especially_ women."

Draco chuckled, "He could've been worse, at least he had quidditch going for him."

"He wasn't bad looked either," Pansy smiled fondly. "He had a nicer face than poor Marcus, that's for certain."

"Flint didn't have two thoughts in his head, either. Too many bludgers to the head is my guess. Perhaps you should try dating someone who isn't a quidditch player," he suggested.

Pansy scoffed, "And miss out on the gorgeous physique that comes from such brutal displays of masculinity? I wouldn't dream of looking elsewhere."

"Well you're running out of options rather quickly. Who's next, Weasley?" Draco sneered.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "First, I'd like to mention that we did in fact graduate so you should attempt to move past your grudges. Second, I'd like to think I have better standards than to date the Witless Weasley, thank you very much." Pansy flicked her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated display of arrogance.

"Even Potter would be better than that ponce," Draco agreed.

Pansy hummed in agreement. "Returning to our original topic, which you very artfully avoided, you do know I will have to involve myself if you refuse to do anything, yes?"

Draco sighed in exasperation, "Pansy, there's nothing to involve yourself in."

She delicately arched an eyebrow at him before standing and walking to the fireplace. Setting her glass on the mantle, she threw a sharp-toothed grin over her shoulder. "Two weeks, Draco." Her voice portrayed just how real her threat was, "two weeks before I get involved. You know I can't resist a good, old-fashioned game of Cupid."

Draco gave her a warning look and stood as well. "Don't get involved, Pansy. It never ends well when you do, and there's nothing to get involved in."

Pansy grabbed a fist full of floo powder and replied, "The dragon on your arm begs to differ." She winked, and in a flash of emerald flames she was gone. And Draco's two weeks began.

In his fourth attempt to visit Hermione's shop Draco decided to take the more formal approach and owled her to make an appointment. Hermione's response had been swift, and Draco felt a twist in his gut at the familiar script of her handwriting. He waited anxiously in his office the day of his appointment and actually left an hour early in a bundle of nerves. He told himself it was because he was getting another tattoo not because of the witch giving it to him.

He was standing outside Virago debating whether or not an hour was considered fashionably early or questionably early when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Well if it isn't the notorious Draco Malfoy gracing the humble folk of Diagon Alley with his presence."

Turning with his guard up at the mention of his name, Draco was greeted once again with the sight of the ginger wildfire, Ginny Weasley.

She sauntered up to him, golden arm tattoos glittering in the sun and sarcastic smile on her freckled face. "Tell me, what brings the Witch Weekly's most elusive bachelor to Hermione Granger's shop? Surely you aren't getting inked, that such a _muggle_ fad."

Distracted by her tattoos, Draco blinked twice to refocus and figure out what she'd just said and why she was being so friendly.

Ginny chuckled at his startled silence. "You're uncharacteristically quiet, Malfoy," she joked. "No witty comeback? Cat got your tongue?"

Draco quickly collected himself and shot back. "I'm just surprised to be having a somewhat civil conversation with a ginger is all," Draco retorted. "Those were a rare occasion back in school, what with your family's notoriously explosive temper and lack of social decorum. Forgive me if I'm surprised that you aren't throwing hexes at me for in retaliation for the way I treated your brother."

"I always thought you were an obnoxious ass in school, but that was because you thought you ruled the quidditch pitch, which we all know you were sorely mistaken. I couldn't care less about your little rivalry with my brother; I just wanted to prove I was better than you on a broomstick." Ginny smirked, "And I did."

Draco chuckled good-naturedly at her competitive streak remembering their intense rivalry on the pitch. "In that case, I relinquish my quidditch crown and request a fresh start." Self-assured smirk still on his face, Draco held his breath quietly hoping he was misreading her good-natured teasing.

Ginny held her head high, giving Draco a glimpse of what looked like music notes behind her right ear, and daintily extended her hand to him. "You may acknowledge my quidditch prowess and then we may start anew," she said loftily.

Draco lightly kissed the back of her knuckles causing Ginny to laugh and swat at him. "Okay, okay you've proved your point! Now get your ass in the shop. Hermione's hates when people are late." Ginny turned on her heel and swaggered off.

Draco shook his head at her antics, amazed at the amount of personality she held, before he squared his shoulders and entered the shop.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Shout out to all the wonderful people leaving reviews, you guys are the reason I write! No seriously, there's this voice in the back of my head saying "girl, get it together, people are waiting on you". It's the only reason I get anything done... Anyway! We've got a little Dramione fluff, some new tattoos, and a look into a promising friendship between Ginny and Pansy. Let me know what ya think!**

Draco's stomach churned in anxiety as he made his way to the front counter of Hermione's shop. He fidgeted with he shirt sleeve as he waited impatiently for Hermione to appear. The sound of heels clicking on the floor had him whirling around quick enough to make his head spin. Sure enough, Hermione came walking out of the back of the store. His heart sank a little in disappointment when he saw she was once again dressed in muggle jeans and a long sleeve shirt, chocolate curls loose around her shoulder, her outfit covering any tattoos she might have.

Her eyes caught his and she smiled in greeting. "Draco, welcome back! Are you here for another round of ink?"

Draco pulled at his left sleeve and smiled back. "Hello, Hermione," her given name felt strange in his mouth. "I'm here for the appointment we scheduled. I hope you don't mind that I'm early."

Hermione chuckled at the formality of his speech, "I don't mind at all." She rested her hand on his shoulder as she passed him causing a shudder to run down his spine. " Let me grab my sketchbook, and I'll meet you in the back room."

Draco nodded and made his way to the small office where they had met the first time. While waiting for Hermione to return with her sketchbook, Draco perused her shelves admiring pictures and books. He raised an eyebrow at the Magical Law and Patenting series before his gaze zeroed in on the collection of pictures on her desk.

There were five in total, frames in different sizes but organized in a way that framed the edges of the desk in quite the Hermione fashion. There were two of landscapes: a snowy mountain top with small figures in the background so small they could be mistaken for dots of ink; the other a beach with a lone figure standing in the water, body encased in shadows thrown from the setting sun. Muggle pictures, Draco noted from the lack of movement within the wooden frames. The other three, however, were distinctly wizard. One was of the most hideous cat Draco had ever seen. It's orange, scrunched face looked as if it had been hit one too many times with a door. The cat sat poised for the picture the only sign of movement was it's swishing tale. Next to it was the Golden Trio picture Draco had been expecting. Arms slung over each other's shoulder, the three laughed at a joke told before the picture was taken. There was a small tug in Draco's chest at the unadulterated joy written across their features. Blinking quickly he moved his gaze to the final picture and frowned. Two people he didn't recognize walked hand-in-hand down a street, smiling at each other and seemingly oblivious of the camera.

"My parents."

Draco startled at the sudden voice and jerked upright. Wide-eyed he gazed uncomprehendingly at the brunette.

"It's a long story for another time," she smiled softly in the direction of the picture. It was the same smile he'd seen when he'd asked about her time in the muggle world: wistful and sad. Not feeling comfortable with pressing further, Draco merely nodded and walked over to the couch where he'd sat the previous visit.

Resuming her seat across from him, Hermione set her sketchbook next to her and held out her hand. "May I see your arm?"

Draco involuntarily flinched as the question and moved his arm out of reach.

Recognizing the habit she'd seen in Theo, Hermione spoke gently, "It's okay, Draco, I just want to make sure your tattoo took to your skin well and there aren't any complications."

Draco flushed in embarrassment. Of course she wanted to see the tattoo. He rolled his sleeve up to his elbow and held out his forearm. The movement was foreign; he'd become so accustomed to hiding his arm it felt strange to put it on display.

Hermione gently took his wrist and turned his arm this way and that. Humming to herself she released his arm and smiled. "It looks like the tattoo took well! No extra charm work necessary, thank goodness. Which means we can jump straight into the next design." Lifting her sketchbook, Hermione tapped her lip with her pencil. "Any ideas?"

Draco cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, trying to keep his gaze from fixing on the tapping motion of the pencil. "I was hoping we could do something similar to last time?"

Hermione looked shocked at his suggestion. "You want me to design your second one?"

Unsure of himself, Draco looked at down at the dragon on his arm and traced the snitch's wings. "I mean, if you don't have the time I completely understand."

"No, no, that's not what I meant!" Hermione out her hand to her chest and smiled. "It's a huge compliment that you want me to design your tattoo again."

"Well, you did such an impressive job last time." Hermione blushed at the compliment. "And from what I've seen, your reputation for original designs is glowing."

"Oh? Whose did you see?" Hermione tilted her head in curiosity.

Draco smiled slightly, "I ran into Luna the other day, and she showed me the ones you gave her."

Hermione's eyes lit up when he mentioned Luna's name. "Oh those were some of my favorite!"

Draco nodded "I can see why. The flowers were impressive, especially when they moved. And the runes on her wrist, do they actually -"

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, cutting him off. "They actually work! She was the one to help me figure them out, but after a lot of research and testing we finally managed to figure out a way to to incorporate magical properties on to skin." Hermione straightened her shoulders in a way that was all too familiar. "The most difficult part was keeping the magic contained in the skin and not letting it bleed throughout the skin cells since that would imbalance them."

Draco smiled at her enthusiasm and tried to keep her going. "Are there new projects you're working on that are similar?"

"Well, Luna has this idea," Draco could tell it would be interesting when Hermione rolled her eyes. "She wants to ink the moon phases down her spine and have them glow with the corresponding moon phase currently in the sky, but I honestly don't know how we could get the ink the recognize it."

Draco turned the idea over in his head for a few moments before tentatively suggesting, "Could you use similar magic to the Great Hall's ceiling that, rather than telling the time, mirrors what is currently in the sky?"

Hermione's eyes widened comically as the wheels in her head started spinning madly with the idea. Draco startled when she leapt up from her seat and dashed to her desk. "That's brilliant, Draco!" She ruffled through her drawers for spare paper and jotted down the idea before she forgot it. She turned a thousand watt smile in his direction causing his stomach to do somersaults. She bounced back into her seat with a spring in her step and enthusiasm that was contagious.

She grabbed her sketchbook, straightened her back, and was instantly all business though the twinkle in her eye didn't fade. "Now, you said you wanted to use the same method as last time," Draco nodded in agreement. "So I'll ask you a few more personal questions and we can go from there. What is your biggest fear?"

Draco swallowed thickly at the question. Images of the War, Voldemort, and Death Eaters flashed through his brain.

Hermione noticed his eyes glaze and his fists clenched so she quickly rephrased her question. "Better yet," she amended, "tell me a fear you had as a child that's still present."

Relaxing minutely Draco thought back over his childhood. "It's somewhat cliche," Draco said hesitantly, "but I was always afraid of being alone. Not physically but in life. I held my friends very close and rarely spent time apart from them. I feared losing them or my mother; I feared walking through life alone and still do."

Hermione nodded and began sketching as he talked. The sound of her pencil scratching against paper filled the room as she asked, "And your friends, can you tell me a little about them?"

Draco smiled as he continued his trek through his memories. "There were four of us that ran together as kids. Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and myself. It was just the three of us boys until Pansy came along, but she held her own." He chuckled at memories of Pansy keeping the three of them in line. "We were little hell raisers growing up. Theo was the brains, Blaise the wild ambition, Pansy the smooth talker, and I was the ringleader. I couldn't have asked for a better family." Shaking his head fondly, Draco looked up and met Hermione's warm gaze.

She was smiling as well, warmth exuding from her as she drank in the happy picture he painted. For the first time in a long time, she felt that she had finally seen Draco with a few less walls. She took a breath before turning the sketchbook around.

This design was simpler than the previous. Building on his first tattoo, the sketch she made ran from elbow to shoulder filling the skin with twining plants. There were large oak leaves shadowing small pink flowers and other plants he didn't recognize. The flowed seamlessly into the flowers on his forearm.

Before he could comment, Hermione began her explanation. "I've incorporated three plants into the design. The oak leaves, which represent strength, are obvious and take up the majority of the skin. The smaller bundles are mignonette which represent worth, and are mixed with the little pink flowers. Those are laurel and stand for ambition. I know pink flowers aren't very many but I was trying to incorporate some of the characteristics of your friends. Plus," she giggled, "what's a Slytherin without the flower of ambition?"

Draco chuckled with her, "Makes perfect sense to me. I love it."

Hermione clapped her hands once and grinned. "Wonderful! Then let's get started!"

In a rare moment of bravery, Draco stopped her. "First, I think we made a deal that I'd like to uphold."

Hermione blinked in confusion trying to remember what deal they might have made. Going over their previous conversations, Hermione's eyes lit with understanding. Laughter bubbled up from her chest until she was shaking with it. "I had completely forgotten! Tit for tat after all!" She laughed harder at her own joke which had Draco tilting his head in confusion.

He went to ask what she was talking about but his mouth ran dry as she began lifting the hem of her shirt. She raised it to just above her ribs and glanced at the familiar ink on her side. In small, black script were names etched across her ribs. Before Draco's eyes the ink flowed and changed, a new name on her side every few seconds. He recognized a few of them as he saw Fred change to Albus change to Sirius. He tried to regain his breath as Hermione dropped her shirt back down.

"They're the names of everyone I lost in the War. I've spelled the ink to change so everyone's names would fit. There were too many for me to..." Her voice trailed off as tears gathered in her eyes. Not sure how to comfort her, Draco rested his hand on her knee in silence. She placed her hand on top of his and gave him a watery smile. They sat that way for several moments before Hermione cleared her throat and stood. "Let's get started on your ink. I'm eager to stab you with a wand again." She winked at him as he laughed.

In a small tea shop on Diagon Alley two witches sat across from each other quietly sipping their tea and eyeing each other over the rims of their cups. They sat in silence for several minutes before one finally offered the proverbial olive branch.

"You're looking well, Ginevra."

Ginny smiled slightly at the use of her given name and replied, "You as well, Pansy. Adulthood looks good on you."

Pansy smirked at the redhead's subtle quip and set her tea cup down. "It would appear," she said while daintily folding her hands in her lap, "that we have persons in our lives who would profit should the both of us decide to assist them in their inability to approach their desired objectives."

Ginny smirked at Pansy's carefully worded offer and mirrored her posture. "It would appear so. Perhaps women can look past childhood squabbles to assist those who need them. Especially those unable to help themselves."

Pansy smirked in appreciation at Ginny's ability to keep up. "Why, Ginevra, it would seem education can do wonders. Who knew your garnet blood had streaks of emerald?"

Ginny leaned her forearms against the table. "You'll find, Pansy, that looking past obvious dividing lines can be quite beneficial. Especially in the blurry territory of love and spite," she added with a head tilt.

Pansy nodded in agreement and leaned against the table as well, cringing internally at the unladylike behavior. "I believe art may be of great help in painting a clearer line for those who wish to ignore it. Should the artist be interested, I'm sure I can find someone quite fascinated with their work."

Eyebrows reaching her hairline, Ginny grinned devilishly. "Snakes can be so full of surprises."

"Indeed they can."

"Well then," Ginny leaned back and raised her tea cup again, "It would seem we have no choice but to help those less fortunate than ourselves. The blind cannot lead themselves after all."

Pansy couldn't contain her excitement and allowed a grin to stretch over her lips. "I couldn't agree more."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I don't know why but this chapter was so difficult to write, so I wrapped it up kind of quickly which is why it's a little short. I promise the next one will be longer, out a little quicker, and hopefully be a big step in Draco and Hermione's relationship. Let me know what you think!**

The soft hum of Hermione's wand filled the small tattoo shop as she began to work on Draco's second tattoo. He watched in fascination as the large oak leaves began to take shape across his bicep. He glanced up at Hermione's face, taking in her look of concentration, and allowed his mind to wander to the tattoo she'd shown him yesterday. Draco continued watching her work as he considered ways to see the other tattoos he knew she must be hiding. Her long sleeved green shirt and black tights hid her ink from him; he itched to see more.

Pulling a small strand of arrogance from the Malfoy ego he kept hidden away, Draco let his eyes slide from her wand up to Hermione's face. He caught her eyes and smirked, "So I was thinking just now-"

"That can't be good," Hermione cut in. He rolled his eyes and she chuckled.

"Anyway, I realized that I technically have two tattoos now, and yet I've only seen one of yours. Hardly seems fair."

Hermione paused her work and tucked her wand into the waist band of the tights she wore. Quirking an eyebrow up at him she asked, "When did your fascination with tattoos begin exactly?"

Trying to make a smooth recovery, Draco scoffed. "I'd hardly call it a fascination. I'm just intrigued by such a muggle art is all."

Hermione hummed in understanding but her smirk made it clear she saw right through him. "Well if you want to see something muggle, I can show you one of my first tattoos."

As she stood, Draco leaned forward in anticipation, forgetting his earlier attempt to not look too eager. Hermione took off her shoe and propped her foot up on the chair next to his thigh. In elegant, black script across the arch of her foot was the word "ohana". Draco reached out a finger to trace the foreign word, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion as his brain tried to translate it.

Hermione giggled, "that tickles!" and jerked her foot away from his finger. Draco smiled and grabbed her foot so he could read the tattoo again. Holding it firmly against his leg he looked up at her. "What does 'ohana' mean?"

Hermione smiled at the way he stumbled over the pronunciation and looked down at the tattoo fondly. "It's from a movie I used to watch as a child. Ohana means family. And family means no one gets left behind or forgotten. It was the first tattoo I got from my mentor as a way for me to remember that even when I felt alone that he was my family."

Draco nodded along at first pretending to know what a 'moo-vee' was before his stomach twisted. "He?" Draco tried and failed to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

Hermione pulled her foot from his hand and replaced her shoe. "Jacob. He was the one who offered me the apprenticeship and first got me interested in tattoos. When I told him about my parents he asked to give that one to me."

Draco's chest was tight with jealousy. He frowned at her covered foot as if hoping to frown at the man who gave it to her.

Seeing Draco's grimace Hermione quirked a small smile and reached for her wand again. "He gave me one other as well." She knew it would antagonize him. Beginning again on his tattoo, Draco's quick glance at her face didn't go unnoticed and only egged her on. "If you let me finish your arm and promise me a third tattoo, I'll show it to you."

Draco fought with himself internally. He knew seeing more evidence of her relationship with this 'Jacob' would only make him angry, but he found himself automatically agreeing. "I'll be a model customer."

Hermione tried her best not to giggle at the curiosity she could almost visually see eating away at Draco's mind.

Before she could respond the shop door flew open with a sharp 'thud' against the wall. "Hermione? Where are you?"

Without looking up from Draco's arm Hermione replied, "In the back!" Draco squinted his eyes in confusion causing Hermione to explain, "That's Ginny. She's always had a flair for the dramatics."

At the mention of her name the redhead in question waltzed into the back room, speaking before she even crossed the doorway. "Hermione, darling, you really need a floo system here. It's so tiresome to walk all the way here to find you."

"This coming from the head Chaser on the Holyhead Harpies. Heaven forbid you have to walk somewhere." Draco chuckled at Hermione's sarcasm causing Ginny to take notice.

"Why, Draco, I didn't realize you were here. You were so uncharacteristically quiet for a ferret. I would have thought the stench of your numerous hair products would have announced your presence before I walked in."

"Lovely to see you as well, Ginevra." Draco quirked a smile at her quips and enjoyed her small frown when he didn't return fire.

"You're no fun when you put your fangs away," Ginny pouted. "But you know what is fun? A party! A party which you, Hermione, are most definitely attending with me on Friday. I'll pick you up at your flat to go shopping tomorrow after lunch. Ta!" Ginny spun on her heel and left the shop.

Hermione had spent the entire exchange with her head bent over Draco's arm and working diligently on her design. After Ginny exited the shop, Hermione sighed, "Well, there goes my Friday."

Draco chuckled at her putout facial expression. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm in the same boat. Pansy owled me this morning announcing a dinner party for Friday. She made sure to include what I was to wear and when I was to arrive."

The corners of Hermione's eyes crinkled as she smiled. "And something tells me Pansy is just as incapable of accepting no as an answer."

"Entirely incapable," Draco agreed. "Perhaps I can come back by Saturday and we can see who's Friday was worse."

Draco admired Hermione's smile as she replied, "Sounds like the ideal Saturday morning. My shop opens at eight."

"This dress is absolutely horrendous!"

Hermione looked up from the dress rack she was perusing and giggled at the garment Ginny was holding. It was a purple monstrosity full of lace, beads, sequins, and God knows what else. The last few hours had been spent laughing over bad dresses and swapping the latest gossip of the Wizarding World.

"What about this one?" Hermione held up an emerald cocktail dress for Ginny's approval.

"No, it's too safe. Be daring, Hermione!" Hermione rolled her eyes and put the dress back. "Besides," Ginny continued, "you don't want to wear that color. It's the same shade as Seamus' wedding tux."

Hermione gasped in horror. "Surely not!"

"Oh yes. Just picturing it! Dean Thomas dressed in dashing black wizard robes and then Seamus Finnigan. All green and looking ever the part of the lucky leprechaun."

Hermione held her stomach as she bent over with laughter. "Oh Seamus! Why am I not surprised?"

Ginny giggled along with her. "Dean of course thought he looked ever so handsome which made the whole affair even funnier."

"Oh, Dean," Hermione shook her head fondly. "It must be true love if he's willing to marry a leprechaun."

Ginny swooned dramatically, "If only I too could find a man to love me despite my strange obsession with pots of gold."

Hermione laughed along with her dramatics before something gold shimmered in the corner of her eye. Pulling a dress off the rack, Hermione held it up for Ginny's opinion. "Speaking of pots of gold?"

Ginny glanced at the dress in question and threw her hands in the air. "Finally! Hermione Granger is being adventurous! Call the Daily Prophet before she changes her mind!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and snarked, "Who knew Gryffindors were brave?"

Ginny took the dress from her and examined it. "All jokes aside, this dress is killer. Everyone's going to drool when they see you in it."

"Who is included in 'everyone' again?" Hermione had been trying to get details out of Ginny all afternoon, but the ginger had been surprisingly tight lipped.

"Oh, you know," Ginny drawled, "just people. Go try the dress on, Brave Bombshell. I still need to find my dress."

Watching as Hermione made her way over to the dressing room, Ginny pulled out a small mirror. Tapping it twice with her wand she waiting for a hum then said, "Gold." Hearing the person in the mirror reply she quickly hid the mirror in her purse before Hermione returned.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: As a thank you to all my wonderful reviewers (wouldn't be here without you guys) and an apology for how long it took me to put up chapter six, here's a new chapter! It's party time with a hint of "oh shit" and a bit of "wait what?" As always, let me know what ya think!**

Draco heard a knock on his bedroom door as he tried to situate his tie. "Pansy, it's so unlike you to knock." Draco heard his door open and glanced over in his mirror expecting to see Pansy but was surprised when Blaise walked in. "Zabini, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

His friend strolled in, his signature smirk resting on his face. "Pansy sent me to make sure you wear exactly what she set out for you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course she did." He glanced at the cloth in Blaise's hand and immediately removed his tie. He sighed dramatically and took the gold fabric from him. "I thought she wanted me to wear the blue tie?"

"There was a last minute change," Blaise responded quickly. He stepped up next to Draco and preened in the mirror. "Any idea why she picked such a gaudy tie for you?"

"Considering it's Pansy who wants me to wear it, there's really no telling." Draco began to put on the new tie and arched his eyebrow at Blaise in the mirror. Blaise hummed in agreement. Pansy had been a stand-in mother to them during their years of Hogwarts, so they had learned fairly quickly not to question her. "I'm assuming it matches her dress."

"Once again the Wizarding World's most eligible Italian bachelor will be going to a party looking like the third wheel," Blaise lamented. "Tragic."

Draco adjusted his shirt cuffs and gave Blaise a bored look. "Would you rather wear a gold tie?"

"Merlin, no."

"That's what I thought."

Draco and Blaise strolled into the recently redone Three Brooomsticks. Madame Rosmerta had completely renovated the restaurant after the War and was hosting a party to celebrate the finished product. Draco admired the new building before his attention was drawn to the third member of their Silver Trio. Draco's face filled with confusion when Pansy walked up in a beautiful _navy_ dress.

"Pansy," Draco drawled while hugging her. "Please tell me the gold tie wasn't your form of a joke."

Pansy held him at arms length and eyed his gold tie before quirking an eyebrow at Blaise who shrugged in return. "Last minute change." Pansy rolled her eyes then smiled at Draco.

"Party attire is hardly a joke, Draco. It's like Blaise said, a last minute change." Flicking her raven hair over her shoulder she linked her arms with both men. "Enough wardrobe talk, I need a drink." The three made their way to the bar greeting friends and classmates along the way. Draco was chatting with a Slytherin that had been a year younger than him when a flash of gold caught his eye. Glancing up at the doorway, Draco's mouth ran dry.

Hermione Granger walked in arm-in-arm with Ginny Weasley. Her dress was simple, but the way she wore it made it anything but. The shimmering gold fabric hugged her curves and left her shoulders bare. The hem fell a few inches short of her knees and made her legs look a mile long. Loose brown curls and tall black heels completed her outfit and left him speechless. When she turned to greet someone he caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her left shoulder and his breath stopped. Without a thought, he downed the remainder of his drink and left whatever conversation was still going with his classmate. Draco quickly made his way through the crowd and stopped before the two women.

Ginny saw him making his way over and smiled at him in greeting. "Draco, don't you look dashing."

Hearing his name, Hermione turned and greeted him as well. "Hello, Draco." She tilted her head to the side and quirked a smile, "I like your tie."

Draco touched his tie willed his cheeks not to redden. "Hermione, Ginny, you both look radiant this evening."

Ginny caught his tactful evasion and smirked. "Thank you, Draco, you're too kind. I need a drink, but I'm sure Hermione would love a dance." She winked at Hermione and made her way to the bar.

Hermione smiled wryly at her friend's antics. "Leave it to Ginny to make a smooth and subtle exit."

"I don't think subtle is in her vocabulary," Draco drawled.

Hermione chuckled in agreement, "Unfortunately, no. She's got a wicked sense of humor and a temper that can't be matched, but subtlety is not her specialty."

Clearing his throat Draco held out his hand. "In that case, I believe I'll follow her instructions so as to avoid that Weasley temper you mentioned. Care to dance?"

Hermione eyed his hand before giving him a dry look. "Wow, Draco, that was so suave. How could a girl turn down such charms?"

His eyes widened at her rejection. Seeing the challenge in her eyes, Draco bowed dramatically and offered her his hand again. "May I have this dance, milady?"

Giggling at his antics, Hermione curtsied and daintily took his hand. "I would be delighted, kind sir."

The two of them made their way to the dance floor under the watchful gaze of their friends.

"I love when a plan comes together," Ginny said smuggly.

Pansy glanced at the woman leaned against the bar then looked back to the dancing pair. "Don't get too excited, darling. Dancing is merely a stepping stone in the grand scheme of things."

"Yes," Ginny agreed, "but it's a step."

Pansy smiled and eyed one of their classmates across the room. "Now for step two."

On the dance floor, Draco spun Hermione in his arms. She giggled as her hair flew madly around her face. He pulled her close to his chest and swayed to the rhythm of the music. His breath caught in his throat as she rested her head on his chest. He looked around the room before his eyes rested on Blaise chatting up a vaguely familiar blonde. His friend gave him a subtle thumbs up and wink before returning to his conversation. He smiled softly and shook his head at the oddity of the situation he was in. He never would have thought he'd be at a party holding The Gryffindor Princess in his arms.

Hearing him scoff, Hermione lifted her head and quirked an eyebrow in question. "What's going through your head?"

"It's nothing. I just never would have thought we'd go from sworn enemies to dance partners."

Hermione chuckled softly and nodded in agreement. "You know, muggles have a saying. If a boy pulls your hair or chases you during school it apparently means he likes you. Maybe our rivalry in school was us trying to be friends."

Draco squinted skeptically at her before tugging on one of her curls.

Her mouth dropped open in dramatic shock. "Draco! I was talking about young children!"

Draco led her into a quick spin and dip, leaning in close until he was nearly nose to nose with her. "Well you know what they say..."

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

"Some boys never learn to grow up."

He pulled her back into an upright position and found himself having to hold her up as she shook with laughter. He continued to dance with her as she laughed, smiling so hard his cheeks ached.

Hermione's smile fell slightly as she looked past him. He frowned at her questioningly when he heard her scoff. "I'm sorry to cut our dance short, but I think there's an issue I need to attend to."

Draco glanced over his shoulder and saw Cormac McLaggen talking animatedly with Pansy, Ginny, and Blaise. Blaise made eye contact with him and rolled his eyes. Draco quit dancing, took Hermione's hand, and began to make his way over to their group of friends.

Pansy saw them walk up and smirked. "I'm sorry, Cormac, but could you repeat that? I'm not quite sure I heard you correctly."

"A little while back Hermione and I dated, and we totally did it. She doesn't like to tell people cause of her Golden Girl image, but DAMN is she hot in the sack!" Cormac was so caught up in his bragging that he didn't notice the brunette in question had walked up behind him.

"Cormac that's the biggest load of malarkey I've ever heard." Ginny quickly dismissed his claim with a roll of her eyes. "You 'did it'? What are we fifteen again?"

"Oh no, it's definitely true." Hearing Hermione speak up behind him, Cormac spun around to face her. "I just thought we both agreed not to tell anyone, Cormac. You know, since you had that little... _issue_." Draco's eyes darted all over Hermione's face trying to tell if she was serious or not. When he caught a quick twitch in the corner of her mouth he decided to let her handle McLaggen and see how it played out.

"What issue?" Ginny's grin sent a chill down Draco's spine.

"I don't have an issue!" Cormac shouted defensively drawing the eyes of several people standing near their group.

"Well, maybe not an issue, but you know the little thing you do? Where you bleet like a sheep when you finish?" Hermione's gave him a pitying smile.

"WHAT? I DO NOT BLEET -" Cormac's rage was quickly cut off by Hermione.

"Or did you mean the fact that you couldn't even get it up until I let you wear one of my dresses."

Cormac spluttered indignantly, "THAT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO -"

"Don't get me wrong, you looked great! But when you asked me to call you Daisy? I've got to draw the line."

"QUIT LYING YOU -" Cormac was cut off by Ginny and Pansy laughing uproariously. Hermione's comments and Cormac's shouting had gathered a decent crowd full of amused former classmates.

"So which is it, Cormac? Is all of that true or were you lying about us sleeping together?" Hermione had her hands on her hips and a smile on her face that showed she knew she had him cornered.

"No, we didn't sleep together! Merlin, it was just a joke!"

"Then you should probably think twice about the rumors you spread." Hermione smirked in triumph as Cormac threw her one last filthy glare before storming out of the party.

Draco gazed at Hermione in awe, high-fiving her friends and grinning madly. He had a quick flashback to the right hook she'd given him during third year and let a grin spread over his face. She made her away over to him and a blush washed over her face. "That was -" he let the sentence hang with a loss for words.

She looked down at the ground, "A bit much?"

Draco shook his head quickly and took a hold of her hand. "I was going to say bloody brilliant." She looked up at him quickly and blushed harder at his admiring gaze.

Draco and Hermione danced and drank with their friends for the next few hours of the party. When the room began to empty of people and Hermione tiredly leaned against him, Draco offered to apparate her home. They made the rounds saying goodbye to their friends before walking out the back of the restaurant and apparating to Hermione's street. She took them to an empty alley between shops at the end of their street, and they quietly made their way arm and arm to her doorstep.

"Thank you for tonight, Draco. I had a wonderful time." The small brunette smiled up at him, arm still linked in his.

"I did as well. Thank you for allowing me to walk you home." He felt a twinge of sadness when she released his arm and stepped up to her doorway.

She smiled coyly at him, "Such a gentleman. Who would've thought?"

"You have my mother to thank for that. If there's one thing she taught me it's how to treat a lady."

Hermione stepped close to him and placed a hand on his chest. "Well it's a good thing I'm not a lady or I wouldn't be allowed to do this." She stood on her tiptoes and lightly pecked him on the lips.

Draco was so shocked by her boldness he didn't register the kiss until she'd already stepped back and reached for the doorknob.

She grinned at his dumbfounded expression. "Good night, Draco," she whispered then ducked inside her apartment.

He stood on her stoop for several more minutes before a huge smile broke out on his face. He spun in a circle with his hands on his head and laughed to himself. _She kissed him_.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I know y'all have been wondering where Harry and Ron have been this whole time, so one of them has dropped in to add a little drama. As always, let me know what ya think!** **A**

 **Also: Shout-out to my peeps that review these chapters. Y'all are the MVP. Seriously, reviews are what help get me writing. Love y'all ❤️**

If two people agreed to meet and compare how terrible the previous day had been for them only to end up spending the evening in question in each other's company, did the agreed meeting still stand? This question ran through Draco's head as he lay awake in the early hours of the morning. He'd returned home after dropping Hermione off and found that sleep escaped him entirely; his mind was too preoccupied with replaying their kiss on an unending loop. Not that he minded. As the early morning rays of the sun began to peek through his curtains, Draco rose to get dressed and visit Hermione's shop. _A meeting is a meeting, after all,_ He thought, _and I'd be a poor gentleman for missing one._

Draco's feet carried him down the familiar path at Hogsmeade to Virago. The town was quiet as shop owners were only just beginning to open their stores and start their days. Feeling a few glares directed his way by the few people wandering the street, Draco put his head down and quickly ducked into Hermione's shop. He glanced around the front room before making his way to the back office. He found his assumption was correct when he pushed open her office door and found Hermione sitting at her desk.

He studied her for a moment, enjoying how peaceful she looked in the early morning light. Her hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders and face as she leaned over her desk, quickly writing on parchment. Her top teeth chewed gently on her bottom lip in concentration which quickly sent his mind back into the memory of their kiss the night before. Shaking his head to interrupt his train of thought, Draco gently spoke so as not to startle her, "You really should consider installing the floo system into your fireplace."

Hermione glanced up from her writing and smiled when she saw him standing in the doorway. "And get between my friends and their exercise? I wouldn't dare." She placed her quill back in the ink well and stood from her desk. She gestured to the couches by the fireplace before sitting down in her usual seat. "So, Draco, have you come to compare horrible nights?"

Draco took off his coat and draped it over the back of the couch before sitting down. "In fact I have. You see, I was forced by Pansy to go to this dreadful party full of old classmates. The whole affair was tragic."

Hermione hummed and nodded in fake sympathy. "That does sound truly terrible. Mine was most definitely worse. You see, I had to defend my honor, wear a horribly gaudy dress, and dance with a partner who clearly had no previous dance experience."

Draco's jaw dropped at the insult to his dancing. When she smirked at him, he quickly closed his mouth and shot back, "Well that is a terrible night indeed. How odd that you had a horrible dance partner because, believe it or not, I too had a terrible dance partner. She wasn't at all enjoying herself and stepped on my toes at least twice."

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. "How tragic. It would seem we both had equally terrible nights."

Draco opened his mouth to finally ask about the kiss and, if he was feeling bravely, maybe ask Hermione to dinner but was interrupted by the sound of the front door of the shop opening and slamming shut. Hermione frowned softly in confusion, but the look quickly turned into shock when the office door opened and Ron Weasley came barging in.

He didn't give Hermione any time to speak before he began rambling. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in, Mione. Ginny told me where your store was and that you'd probably be in the office which was in the back. I wanted to come by sooner but didn't realize you were in town until a little while ago and was waiting for you to reach out first, but when you didn't I -" Ron paused in his monologue as he finally looked at Hermione and saw Draco sitting across from her. His face began to turn red in a way that was far too familiar. His face twisted into a grimace as he demanded, "What the bloody hell is he doing here?"

Hermione had sat patiently during Ron's speech, her posture straight and hands folded carefully in her lap to hide her fidgeting fingers. "Ron," she started calmly. "I appreciate you coming by, but I would have appreciated if you had owled me first. Draco and I had an appointment this morning and -"

"Oh so it's Draco now?" Ron interrupted her indignantly.

Draco, seeing that his presence was only going to make matters worse, rose to excuse himself. "I think it'd be best if I leave, Hermione. We can meet later today."

Hermione nodded at him with a small, apologetic smile. Ron spluttered when Draco used her first name but let him pass easily as he left the office. Draco made it halfway through to the door before he heard muffled shouting coming from the office. He stood still as he debated the moral implications of listening in before he made his way back towards the office. Knowing the Weasley temper as well as he did, he leaned against the wall next to the office door and listened to see if Weasley took it too far.

"We all lost people, Hermione. That doesn't mean you can abandon everyone for some traipse across the globe." Ron's voice rang clearly through the door making it impossible for Draco not to eavesdrop.

"I know everyone lost people, Ron, but I lost my entire family. Everywhere I looked was death and sadness and I felt so empty." Draco frowned at how wrecked Hermione sounded. "I needed to escape it all. Everyone heals in different ways, and I couldn't do that here."

"Do you have any idea how selfish that sounds? You left us when we needed you most. When I needed you most!"

"I'm sorry, Ron, I really am. I know you needed me, that Harry needed me, but I can't help my friends when the person you need isn't there anymore. I was a hollow version of myself. There was no way I could help anyone in the shape I was in. It took me months to put myself back together. Sometimes you have to be selfish, Ron, it's the only way I could save myself."

"But I loved you, Hermione." Draco clenched his fists at his sides and had to talk himself out of going in the room. "I still do! I thought we were going to be together after the Battle at Hogwarts, but I turned around one day and you were just gone."

"Ron, we've had this talk. I love you and Harry more than most, but you're both family. I'm sorry, but we don't have that kind of future together."

"You're just confused, Mione," Ron tried to reason with her. "If you'll just leave this silly art stuff and come back to the Burrow with me, everything can go back to the way it was."

"This isn't just silly art stuff, Ronald. This is my life; I find pride in what I do here. If you can't understand that -"

"I don't understand it!" Ron's angry outburst caused Draco to stand up from his leaning position and stand before the door with his hand on the handle. "I don't understand any of it! You took a vacation without telling anyone and then suddenly come back covering people in these stupid drawings and befriending Slytherins of all people?"

"People change, Ron. We've all changed. How can you let such prejudices continue after everything we went through."

"Because they're horrible people, Hermione! I mean Malfoy? Seriously? He's the worst of them all!"

Feeling that Hermione had the situation under control, Draco slowly began to move away from the door. Most of the yelling had stopped, and he could barely hear their conversation. He'd almost made it out of the shop when he heard a large crash followed by a muffled "Damn it, Ronald!" He rushed back to the office, took a breath, and carefully opened the door.

Hermione was standing behind her desk with Weasley across the room at the fireplace. There was a broken lamp in pieces by the door alerting Draco to what the crash had been. The pair looked at Draco as soon as he entered the room, Hermione in honest curiosity and Ron in fury. Draco raised a brow at Weasley before saying, "I forgot my coat."

As Draco approached the couch where he'd left his coat he caught sight of Hermione wiping at her cheeks. Realizing she was wiping away tears, Draco's stomach twisted and anger began to burn in his chest. He willed himself to be calm and asked, "Is everything alright in here?"

"We're fine," Ron spat. "Just get your coat and leave, ferret."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Really, Weasley? Ferret? Hasn't that one gotten a little old?"

Ron sneered at him. "Get out, Malfoy, no one wants you here."

"That's hardly the case," Draco drawled. "In fact, I was invited. Can you say the same for yourself?"

Ron growled and stormed up to Draco until they were nose to nose. "You're a fool if you think Hermione wants a death eater spawn like you here. Last I checked, no one wanted your family anywhere near England." Ron's mouth twisted into a nasty smile. "In fact, last I heard your deadbeat father was shipped to Azkaban and your bitch mother left you behind and fled for Paris, so really you're the last one we have to get rid of. Packed your bags yet?"

Draco kept his cool until his mother was mentioned. At that point, his calm demeanor flew out the window consequences be damned. "It's true, my mother did leave, but at least I'm not a drunken layabout who's too busy sulking about a girl I'll never get to actually do something with myself. Face it, Weasley, how could a girl like her love a lazy nobody like you?"

He knew he'd gone too far when Ron's eyes flashed with a look of pure hatred. Before he could blink, Ron cocked back his arm and punched Draco square in the face. Draco heard Hermione's shocked shout before he stumbled back into her desk. He stood up to retaliate but was stopped by Hermione appearing at his side and grabbing at his face.

"Oh Merlin, Draco, are you alright?" She grabbed his chin and turned his face to look at her, her brown eyes darting over his features. Ron made a comment about her helping Draco causing Hermione to level him with her chilling, angry gaze. "Get out, Ronald." Ron went to argue, but glare showed she wouldn't budge on the issue, so he simply huffed and stormed out.

Hermione looked back at Draco and flinched when she saw the bruise already forming on his cheek. "Sit down on the couch, I'll get something for your cheek." Draco followed her order, his eyes watching her as she bustled around the room.

Knowing his comment to Weasley would come back to bite him he quickly apologized, "I'm sorry for what I said about Weasley. I went too far."

Hermione came and sat down beside him with a cloth and bruising paste. "It was a cruel thing to say," she said in agreement as she added the bruising paste and cold water to the cloth. "But Ron was in the wrong as well. And he definitely shouldn't have hit you." Draco reached for the cloth when she'd finished only for her to smack his hand away. She grabbed his chin again and pulled his face over to her. Draco hissed as the cold cloth touched his cheekbone causing Hermione to tut and press it more firmly against his face. "You just had to play the hero, didn't you?"

Draco glanced over at her and felt relief at the small smile he found on her face. "I'm sorry if I upset you by intervening like that. I know you can handle yourself, you've proven that several times over."

"Oh I'm not upset at you for that," she reassured him, "I'm just frustrated with Ron. He never understood why I left and has been angry ever since. I appreciated you coming to my rescue even if I didn't need it." She quirked a smirk at him. "The coat was a nice touch."

Draco grinned at his own cleverness. "So you caught that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "It's not like it was very subtle. Let me just get my coat. Oh! A damsel in distress? I must help her!" Hermione giggled at her own joke causing Draco to smile.

Feeling rash, Draco placed his hand over the one she had pressed to his cheek and gave her a devilish look. "Since such a gallant knight rescued you and received an injury in the line of duty, would he be remiss to ask the damsel in distress to go to dinner with him?"

A blush graced Hermione's cheeks and her gaze quickly dropped to the floor. "When given an offer in such an eloquent manner, how can a lady possibly say no?"

"When I find a lady, I'll be sure to ask her."

Hermione fell into a fit of giggles as she recognized his reference to their kiss. "It's true, I'm no lady. So perhaps you should ask the artist instead?"

Draco grinned at her then quickly stood and walked over to her desk. Her eyes followed his motions in confusion as he dipped her quill in the ink jar sitting on her desk. He came back over to the couch and taking her hand in his he quickly wrote "dinner?" on the back of her hand. Reading it, Hermione took the quill from him and grinning widely she wrote "yes".

Hermione tapped her finger against the table and glanced at the restaurant door for what felt like the millionth time. She sighed in disappointment and checked her watch again. Draco didn't strike her as the type to be late, but it was already thirty minutes passed their meeting time.

Her face flushed with embarrassment as the waitress came by and gave her another pitying look. "Still waiting?"

"Not for much longer," Hermione replied.

The waitress caught on to her annoyed tone of voice and nodded in understanding. "If he doesn't show, he wasn't worth worrying about. Your drink's on the house, so when you decide you've had enough you don't have to worry about it."

Hermione smiled in thanks but felt the small bubble of hope in her chest begin to deflate. This was his idea so he had to come, right? She huffed in frustration and downed the rest of her wine. Her frustration slowly burned into anger as the minutes passed before she finally gathered her things to leave. _So much for people changing_.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I'm so very sorry it took me so long to post the newest chapter! I've had a lot going on in my personal life so finding the motivation and time to write has been difficult. BUT! I pulled it together and managed to finally get it one out, so as always let me know what you think! You guys are the greatest and a huge help with my writing.**

The trek up to the front gate felt miles long. Draco pulled his cloak tighter around himself to try and fight off the icy wind. His nose burned from the smell of sea salt, and he told himself it was the chill and not fear that caused his body to tremble. Azkaban had always been a formidable sight, but knowing what lay in wait for him behind it's stone walls made it even more so. He inhaled a deep breath and cleared his mind, occlumency shields falling into place and calming the whirlwind of panicked thoughts. _Give him twenty minutes and then you can be enjoying dinner with Hermione. Just twenty minutes._

As the auror at the front gate scanned his wand and verified his identity, Draco felt a twinge of sympathy. No one could pay him enough to stand in the cold for hours on end. He nodded his appreciation and entered the prison. Draco huffed in frustration; he had forgotten that the inside of the fortress was as cold and unforgiving as the island it was built on. Regretting his decision to forgo wearing a scarf, Draco walked the familiar path through the depths of the winding hallways back to the hall where the worst Death Eaters were housed. Although dementors were no longer used, the prison itself was still functioning and used to house prisoners left over from the Battle of Hogwarts.

Draco stopped before the last door on the right. There was a scuffle of movements in the cell before him, and he caught a glimpse of striped cloth moving through the singular stream of sunlight in the cell. His face remained impassive as he took in the withered appearance of the once great man held within.

"Hello, Father."

The once aristocratic face of Lucius Malfoy twisted into an empty, hollow smile. "Draco, my son." His voice was horse from what Draco assumed was screaming his indignation at the Azkaban guards. Disgust settled deep in Draco's gut as he took in his father's haggard appearance: thin and frail, Lucius was a far cry from the highborn pureblood he had once been. Lucius leaned against the bars of his cell and gave Draco a once over. "Don't you look...muggle."

Draco did in fact look quite muggle. He had worn blue jeans specifically to anger his father, and he was satisfied to know it was working. "Yes, I've decided to try and repair our family name and approach new forms of business in the muggle world since no wizard will do business with Malfoy Co. anymore."

His father sneered, his prominent cheekbones and sunken face making the expression look ghastly. "How quaint," he drawled. "Doing business with muggles and saving the family name. You're quite the philanthropist."

"Why did you call me here, Lucius?"

Lucius grinned. "I have called you here as my heir to ask a favor of my dearest son."

Draco resisted the urge to give his father an incredulous look. "After everything you've done, what gives you the right to ask me a favor?"

Chuckling derisively, Lucius mumbled, "Yes after everything you've been through how dare I? After raising you in a life of luxury and giving you everything your silly heart desired, how dare I?"

Palms aching from his nails digging into them, Draco tempered his rage and held his arms behind his back. He wouldn't give his father the satisfaction of knowing he could still anger him. "Get to the point."

"I humbly ask you, my dearest son," the mocking smirk never left his face, "to assist me in a mutual endeavor. You see, I too wish to revive our tarnished family name and restore it to its original position of honor amongst the Old Families."

Draco squinted at Lucius in suspicion. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

Lucius grinned viciously through the bars of his cell. "We rally the troops, of course."

* * *

Hermione would admit to anyone who asked that she was a flawed human being. Yes, she was the smartest witch of her generation, an inventive mind who created a singular art form not previously seen by anyone, and a heroine to an entire nation. But she was flawed and her largest flaw, in her humble opinion, was her ability to hold a grudge. If she was offended enough she could write a person completely out of her life and passive aggressively remind them of their sin for years to come. Once when she was in primary school a girl had insulted her hair, and years later when the girl needed tutoring to keep her from failing out of school, Hermione turned her down with no sympathy or regret. She felt a sense of gratification when the girl flunked out, and that was when she realized she needed to seriously self-analyze. She had tried to work on it with little progress and had come to terms with the fact that, when life called for it, she could be a professional vindictive bitch.

Needless to say, this was one of those times.

Never in her life had Hermione been stood up. With a sore ego and the knowledge that she could never return to that restaurant, Hermione returned to work and tried to forget about the heartless bastard that _still_ had not had the decency to write her with an explanation. But Draco would not be so easily forgotten.

When word got out that Hermione's tattoo shop was willing to work with former Death Eaters and cover their dark marks, Virago was quickly flooded with tentative new clients. Hermione was thrilled with the new work, but seeing old classmates, especially of the Slytherin variety, only caused a certain platinum haired arse to come to the forefront of her mind. So Hermione did what any sensible woman would do. She took a vacation.

Overnight bag slung over her shoulder, Hermione grinned to herself as the door bell announced her presence throughout White Wolf Designs. The smell of incense filled her senses and brought a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time. She was home.

"Hermione!" A flash of yellow appearing from Hermione's right was the only warning she got before she was body slammed and brought to the floor.

Wheezing with laughter, Hermione wrapped her arms around her assailant. "Miranda! How are you?"

The so-named Miranda popped her head up and sent Hermione a dazzling smile. "I've been wonderful. But oh how I've missed you, darling!" She stood and offered Hermione a hand, allowing the witch to get a good look at her old friend.

Miranda was a small woman standing at only 5'1" and was sporting a sunshine yellow tank top that perfectly fit her sunny disposition. Tattooed arms on display, the vibrant ink designs offset her mocha skin beautifully. After Hermione stood upright again, Miranda held her at arms length and gave her a once over.

"Hermione, you are practically glowing! Shop ownership looks good on you." Miranda winked and pulled Hermione in for a hug. "White Wolf has been far too quiet without you, though. How long are you here for?"

Hermione returned the hug gratefully. "I haven't really decided yet. I sort of left on a whim; just needed to clear my head for a bit."

Miranda gave her a skeptical look that promised future interrogation on the subject. "Heartbreak or stress?"

"Heartbreak is a bit of a strong word," Hermione answered tentatively knowing how protective Miranda could be.

"I'll kill him for you."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"They'll never find the body."

"Mo, honestly."

"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. You know my guest room is always ready for you to come and stay in. And if you do end up needing my services, just let me know. I know a guy." The smile Miranda gave her told Hermione she wasn't lying.

Hermione smiled appreciatively. "You're the most wonderful friend, Miranda. What would I do without you?"

"You'd be lonely secretary at some boring, colorless business firm in the middle of nowhere."

Joy filling her heart, Hermione laughed along with Miranda at the truth of the statement. Not for the first time she wished Miranda were a witch so they could see each other more often. Not allowing herself to dwell on the thought, Hermione asked, "Is Jacob in?"

Before Miranda could answer the door to the back office opened, and Hermione smiled.

"Hello, Jacob."

* * *

Draco fled Azkaban faster than he ever had and apparated directly into his flat. He stood still for several moments before a scream of anger ripped itself from his lungs. _We must call the death eaters together once more._ He collapsed to his knees, the sound of his shout reverberating off the silencing charm on his walls. A wash of emotions spread through him all too much to handle. Fear. _We'll be more clever than last time._ Anger. _We can reclaim our rightful place in wizarding society._ Disappointment. _And you, my son, will be a crucial part in all of it._ His back hunched under the weight of it all.

Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Draco was deaf to the _whoosh_ of flames in his fireplace. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders - _he hadn't realized he was shaking_ \- and heard the soft sound of Pansy shushing him. She rocked him gently back and forth murmuring words of comfort and stroking his hair. He squeezed his eyelids shut to try and keep the emotions locked inside growing nauseous with the turmoil they caused.

His fireplace _whooshed_ again admitting Blaise and Theo. _Pansy must have called them._ He vaguely felt them help him to his feet and over to the couch. Eyes unseeing, Draco heard muffled voices as they discussed where he'd been and how to help him. Tilting his head back, Draco felt the exhaustion sweep over him and pull him into sleep, his dinner plans with Hermione forgotten.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: I don't know guys, but I've been in a MOOD to write! This one was turning out way to long, so I cut it and will post the next part pretty soon. As always, shout out to those of you that read and review, you guys are the greatest! I seriously read your comments over and over, they make me so happy! Love to you all!**

It took several days for Draco to return to some semblance of his normal self. Blaise, Theo, and Pansy were key players in helping to anchor him to reality and provide stability during his emotional turmoil. They'd all helped each other through so many tragedies during their school years that they'd developed a routine of sorts. Pansy provided the cooking; it had been her escape growing up to help the elves in the kitchen whenever her parents were fighting. Blaise provided the escape knowing his Italian villa would give Draco a much needed breath of fresh air and quiet. Theo kept Draco company ensuring he didn't spiral into another panic attack and was able to distract him when thoughts of his father began to creep in once more. Draco was thankful for their quiet support and felt comforted by the presence of his makeshift family, but the small reprieve came to a screeching halt when he remembered the date he'd missed.

"She will _actually_ flay me alive."

Pansy rolled her eyes, not bothering to look up from the Witch Weekly edition she was flipping through. "Don't be so dramatic."

Draco stared at her in shock. "Dramatic? Pansy, I asked her to dinner and then stood her up!"

"It's not like you did it on purpose, mate." Blaise smirked at Draco's incessant pacing. "If you keep this up you'll wear a hole in my rug. It was quite expensive, so if you don't mind -"

"Really, Zabini? You're worried about the rug?" Theo scoffed as he poured himself a glass of one of Blaise's many bottles of expensive wine.

Blaise tossed him a glare in response. "You would as well if you had bought the rug."

"Can we focus on the issue at hand?" Draco gave Blaise a scathing look that barely phased the Italian wizard. He'd received it far too many time for it to have any effect.

"What do you want us to tell you? You committed a faux pas, and you have to redeem yourself in the eyes of your lady love. Good luck." Pansy still hadn't bothered to look up from her magazine, so she missed the appalled expression that passed over Draco's face.

"Lady love? Hardly. This is Granger we're talking about." Draco balked at the laughter that his comment caused.

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" Theo smirked at Draco over his glass. "Your arm says otherwise."

Draco absentmindedly rubbed his tattooed forearm. "Regardless of what it may or may not look like, I still need to repair things. A friendship with one of the Heros of Hogwarts would go a long way in restoring my family name."

"Do you honestly expect us to believe you would go through all of this only to be friends with the witch? And then use that friendship for political gain?" Pansy arched a delicate eyebrow and snorted derisively. "Please, we're more clever than that."

Blaise pulled a serious expression. "I don't know, Pans, he takes politics very seriously." He then proceeded to dramatically throw himself across one of his lounge chairs. "Oh the family name! It's all that matters. Family! Honor! Prestige!"

Theo raised his glass. "Here here! To the forever loved and remembered Malfoys. To the newly refurbished Draco. Long may he reign!"

Blaise and Pansy echoed his cheer. "My leige," Pansy sank into a deep curtsy sending Blaise into a fit of laughter. "How can I be of service?"

Theo quickly rose and kneeled before Draco. "Please, milord, it would do my family a great deal of honor if you would allow me to serve you in this endeavor."

"Alright, you lot," Draco rose and shoved Theo over causing him to sprawl on the carpet. "You've had your fun."

"Have we? But we're only just getting started." Blaise sent Draco a wicked grin before slowly withdrawing his wand. With a dramatic flourish, Blaise quickly transfigured Draco's shirt and pants into a vibrant purple cape with fluffy white trim and a bejewled crown.

Draco put his fists on his now underwear class hips and glowered at his friends. "Change it back, Zabini."

Pansy held Draco's wand behind her back so he couldn't fix his clothes and smirked. "But, Draco, it's the only thing befitting of a redeemed house of such prestige."

Draco glared at them for a few moments before muttering, "You could've at least made it green."

* * *

After Draco managed to retrieve his wand from his childish companions and return his clothes to normal, he gathered up his courage and took a trip to Diagon Alley. When he arrived to the storefront of Virago, however, his courage quickly morphed into confusion. All the store lights were off and the sign in the window read "Closed". Draco's brow furrowed as he cast a _tempus_ charm and confirmed that the shop should've been open by now.

"Morning, Draco."

Glancing to his side Draco flashed a smile at the ginger and blonde witches approaching him. "Luna, Ginny, good morning."

"And what brings you into town on this fine day?" Ginny strode to the front of the shop and tossed him a smirk over her shoulder as she unlocked the door.

Draco opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Luna. "Why he's here to visit our Hermione of course."

Knowing it would be futile to argue with the witch, Draco merely nodded. "I was hoping to stop in before she had any appointments so I could speak with her."

Ginny motioned for him to follow her into the shop as she bustled around opening for the day. "Unfortunately for you, our favorite artist is off on a sebatical."

Draco leaned against the wall so he could stay out of her way, and Luna wandered into the back of the store mumbling something about a nargel infestation in the office. "What do you mean by a sebatical?"

"She's taking a break," Ginny yelled from one of the rooms she'd gone into. "Apparently some arsehole stood her up, and she had far too much rage bottled up to allow her to work."

Draco felt his heart clench and his stomach churn with regret. "I didn't intend for it to happen the way it did."

"Oh I'm sure." Ginny came back into the room and arched an eyebrow at him; it was similar enough to one of Pansy's looks that it caused him to shiver. "I'm sure you had every intention of actually going to dinner. But you didn't. And now my best friend is hurt, and the one that hurt her is standing defenseless before me."

Draco became quickly aware of the space, or lack thereof, between him and the most well known temper in all of hus years at Hogwarts. Weighing his odds of winning a fight against _the_ Ginevra Weasley and finding them less than desirable, he held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Ginny, I promise, hurting her was the last thing I wanted."

Ginny barked a laugh and thunked his chest with a fist. "Calm yourself, Draco, I'm not going to hurt you. That's for Hermione to do. I'm sure you didn't intend to hurt her, but the matter still stands that you did. You'll have to make amends with her somehow, and that's for you to sort out on your own."

Releasing a small breath of relief and rubbing lightly at the spot she had punched, Draco smiled at Ginny. "Thank you. Any advice for a dead man walking?"

"Run."

The serious expression on Ginny's face and cold tone of her voice caused Draco's blood to turn to ice. His complexion turned impossibly pale as his mind scrambled for purchase.

"You're scaring him, Ginevra." Draco jumped at Luna's sudden reappearance behind him.

Ginny laughed again at the few moments of terror she had managed to inflict. "Merlin, Draco, you make it too easy!"

Draco rolled his eyes at her and huffed. "This is why I can't be friends with you Weasleys. You try my nearly nonexistent patience."

"It's a true gift." Ginny winked and sauntered off behind the counter.

Taking pity on the poor man, Luna offered an explanation. "Hermione has returned to her pack. The White Wolf became her second home after the War, especially after familial tragedies; you can find her there. Tread carefully, though, the pack alpha holds her close and the beta is not one to be messed with."

Draco stared at the wide-eyed witch with an expression of sheer befudlement. "Is she with werewolves?" He all but shouted. The thought of Hermione with werewolves terrified him after having seen the damage they had done during the Battle.

Luna cocked her head to the side. "Of course not. She's with her old mentor, Jacob."

Teeth grinding at the name, Draco frowned. _Jacob_. The man who was her second family. In Draco's eyes: competition.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: I honestly can't apologize enough for the wait between last chapter and this one. Life just got away from me. I know that's kind of a lame excuse, but it's true. As an apology for the wait and a thank you for sticking with me, I'm posting two chapters! I promise to try and do better, and probably give my muse a firm talking to. As always, let me know whatcha think! Love to you all!**

Draco's solution for dealing with this Jacob character was simplistic in nature and incredibly unsatisfying: ignore him. The slytherin instincts inside him cried out for the unholy demolition of Jacob's reputation and any assets he may hold, but he knew better. If this _muggle_ was important to Hermione then he would have to play the game long term and bide his time patiently. Deciding to table his future battle for Hermione's affections, Draco addressed the more pressing matter of his deranged, imprisoned father.

He'd considered every angle of how to deal with Lucius' plan for another reckless attempt at world domination, but the conclusion he had come to was not the one he wanted. With no small amount of annoyance Draco knocked on the office door labeled "Auror Potter". Despite having come to a peaceful armistice with his old school enemy, Draco's ego was outraged at having to ask the man for help. He attempted to swallow his displeasure as the door swung open.

Harry Potter's infamous green eyes took in the disgruntled man outside his door with an air of curiosity. "Malfoy," he greeted with a raised eyebrow. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Draco released a small breath when Harry didn't immediately close the door in his face. "Evening, Potter. I'm in need of assistance in a very delicate matter."

Harry hummed as he took a step back from the doorway and gestured Draco into his office. "A delicate matter? I'm guessing this has to do with one of our old friends."

Giving the contents of the office a cursory glance Draco took a seat across from Harry's desk. He noted the lack of pictures and memorabilia with a sliver of surprise and made a mental note to investigate the matter at a later date. "Yes, it would seem Lucius has decided to revisit his old hobbies." The corner of Draco's mouth quirked up when he caught Harry's eyes roll at his statement.

"I swear, the amount of persistence is almost admirable." At Draco's raised eyebrow he emphasized, "Almost. It's borderline sad, really. What convoluted plan has he concocted now?"

"That's the issue I came to discuss." Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Lucius in all his wisdom has decided to, as he put it, rally the death eaters and reclaim the glory of the Original Families."

Harry almost laughed at the dramatic flair Draco gave Lucius' words. Almost. The threat of Death Eaters rising again and reattempting to overthrow the British Wizarding Government was all too real and the source of a fourteen month long headache. Most of the stragglers from the Final Battle had been rounded up and sent to Azkaban, but the few that remained were to be tracked down by Harry and his team. Adding an already imprisoned Death Eater to the list seemed...unnecessary.

"I understand being concerned about your father considering he was one of Voldemort's Inner Circle members, but there's not much he can do from inside a prison cell."

Draco knew this would be the response he'd receive from any other auror which was why he'd gone straight to Harry. Sure enough, after a length pause full of thoughtful pacing, Harry sighed.

"I'll look into it. I can't promise I'll find anything," he warned, "but I can promise to keep an eye on things in case anything develops."

"That's all I ask." Draco stood and shook Harry's hand but paused before he left the office. "Quick question, if you have the time." He hesitated for a moment but pushed on at Harry's questioning look. "Hypothetically speaking, if...if you accidentally stood a woman up because of a...delicate, personal family matter, would you explain to her what had happened or just apologize and leave it at that?"

Harry stared at him blankly for a few minutes before slowly saying, "You're going to want to explain yourself to her so she doesn't think you blew her off, and you'll definitely want to apologize. Profusely. Grovel, but don't over-explain. You have to find a happy middle ground." He adjusted his glasses and leveled Draco with a calculating look. "And never lie. She hates when you lie."

Before the last statement could fully register in Draco's mind, Harry had shut the office door and left him alone in the hallway. Draco began to walk towards the reception desk so he could floo home but paused mid-step as Harry's last sentence finally clicked. Foot slowly lowering to the ground, he stared blankly ahead. "Surely he doesn't..." Draco muttered to himself before shaking his head. There was no way the Witless Wonder knew who he was talking about.

* * *

Hermione leaned against the front desk of White Wolf Designs, humming quietly to herself and absentmindedly flipped through one of her old tattoo design portfolios. Smiling fondly at her older work, she shook her head in amazement at how far she'd come.

"What're you smiling at?"

Hermione glanced up from the binder and felt her smile grow. "I'm amazed, that's all."

"Amazed?" Jacob asked. He leaned against the side of the counter opposite of her and looked down at the pages she was on. "Amazed at how terrible you were?"

Hermione snorted and flicked his arm. "Amazed at how much better I am than you," she snarked.

Jacob quirked an eyebrow at her. "Now, now, don't forget who taught you everything you know." He poked her forehead and swiped the book from her hands.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione drawled, "How can I forget when you remind me every chance you get?"

Whatever witty retort Jacob had ready was cut off by the whirlwind named Mo that came blowing into the shop. "Hermione, darling, love, my dear!"

Hermione groaned loudly and hid her face in her hands. "Mo..." She trailed off with a hint of warning in her tone. "Using more than one pet name usually means you want something, and I'm going to go ahead and say no just to be safe." She lifted her face from her hands and faced Miranda which gave her the full picture of her pouting friend.

Lip jutting out dramatically and large, brown eyes shining with fake tears, Miranda begged, "But, Hermione, sweetie, lovebug, this is the best idea I've ever had. I promise, honey."

Jacob chuckled at Miranda's antics causing Hermione took shoot him a glare. "What's this incredibly wonderful idea of yours?"

The grin that quickly spread over Miranda's face didn't bode well for Hermione. "I've been thinking about what your 'I need a vacation from men' crazy, unplanned body art should be!"

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione argued, "Mo, just because I've come back for a visit doesn't mean I need new art. I have enough at the moment, I think." She could feel Jacob's confused expression pointed at the back of her head but ignored it in the face of more pressing issues.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Sure you do!" She skipped behind the counter of the desk Hermione and Jacob were leaned against and pulled out the binder of information on the different piercings they offered. Hermione raised an eyebrow at this but kept silent letting Miranda do her thing. Pages flipped rapidly as the petite woman searched for the specific page that held Hermione's supposed newest addition to the mosaic her body had turned into. "Aha!" Miranda pointed dramatically at the picture she had been looking for.

Hermione's eyebrows shot to her hairline. "A bellybutton piercing?" Her tone betrayed her skepticism and caused Miranda to launch into what was going to be a long-winded explanation on why she thought this was the perfect piercing for Hermione to get. Miranda got as far as "Okay, hear me out" before Hermione stopped her with a raised hand. She eyed the pictures for a few moments before a smile began to work its way across her cheeks. "You know, Mo, this may be the first good idea you've had in a long while."

Miranda ignored the insult in favor of bouncing up and down and clapping her hands in excitement. "Oh, Hermione, this is going to look so good! Especially in summer when you put on a bikini. Those boys will all swoon!" She threw her hand up across her forehead and mimed just how dramatically the boys would apparently swoon sending Hermione into a fit of laughter.

"Alright, you pick out the ring while Jacob and I prep the work room."

Miranda grabbed the book and practically ran to the store room across from the front desk to search for the perfect belly button ring.

Having lost her diversion, Hermione faced Jacob and immediately said, "Before you ask, it's not as big a deal as Miranda made it out to be. As per usual. I reconnected with a guy I knew from school, and then he stood me up. End of story." She watched the emotions flicker through Jacob's steel gray eyes. He squinted at her slightly causing her to sigh. "Okay, maybe I'm a little upset about it." She hesitated. "Maybe a bit more than just a little upset." His eyes hardened. "No," she held her hands up in a placative gesture. "There's no reason for you to get involved; it's over and done with." He raised an eyebrow at her causing her to roll her eyes and grumble, "I'm not unloading all my emotions on you, Jacob, that's not why I'm here."

Jacob stood up, his full 6'5" frame dwarfing Hermione's 5'6". He rested a heavy hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly in a comforting manner. Leveling her with a serious expression, he said, "You are always welcome in White Wolf. You're family, Hermione; never feel like you're unloading emotions or any such nonsense. As far as that boy is concerned, it's entirely up to you how you move forward from here. Everyone deserves a second chance, Hermione, but sometimes they need new beginnings instead. A chance to leave the past in the past and completely start over. If you think he deserves that, then allow yourselves to try again without allowing history or past mistakes to get in the way. But if you don't think he deserves it, then you don't have to give it to him. It's up to you who you allow into your life, and you decide how long they stay." Smiling gently down at her, he ruffled her hair. "Now, step into my office, young padawan. We have a 'I'm taking a vacation from men' piercing to prepare for."

* * *

Draco stood in the middle of the street feeling entirely unimpressed. He'd managed to walk past White Wolf Designs four times because it was so easily looked over. Tucked between a bar and a flower shop, of all things, the front of the shop was barely wide enough to hold one window and one door. A howling wolf head made of weathered iron hung over the stoop, the only indication of what lay inside. The small glass window was brimming with a display of sunflowers which prevented him from seeing the interior of the shop, but the wooden door, though faded and blending into the brick building, was inviting nonetheless.

Inhaling deeply, Draco stared blankly at the shop hours displayed on the door and attempted to calm his nerves. There was no way to predict how Hermione would react to seeing him. His stomach clenched tightly at the reminder of how much he must have hurt her. Rolling his tense shoulders, Draco huffed. He wasn't going to get any closer to gaining her forgiveness if he spent the entire day outside the shop. Stepping into the White Wolf before he could talk himself out of it, Draco took in his surroundings and blinked. Then blinked again.

Muggles weren't capable of magic, but had he been asked Draco would have sworn an expansion charm had been placed on the interior of the tattoo shop. From the outside he would have guessed the shop was the size of a coat closet, and that was being generous, but the space he had stepped into was spacious and welcoming. Vintage light bulbs hung from the ceiling bathing the room in a warm, yellow light. You could hardly see the crimson color donning the walls due to the multitude of tattoo designs that were framed and hung haphazardly across every available wall space. The eclectically mismatched furniture and various potted plants made it feel more like someone's home rather than a professional work environment. Draco made his way to the counter on his right guessing it was some sort of reception desk. An undignified noise of surprise was jerked from his throat when a small woman appeared from behind the desk. Her dark, curly hair formed wild halo about her head, and the vibrant green top she wore was nearly as blinding as her smile.

"Hullo, stranger! Welcome to White Wolf Designs. I'm Mo. What can I do for you today?" Gears spinning at her sudden appearance and how quickly she spoke, Draco tried to process what this woman - was Mo a name? - had said. Mistaking his silence for nerves, Mo smile gained a gentler light. "Is this your first time? Nothing to be worried about, sweetie, everyone gets nervous the first time around, but Jacob's a sweetheart and will take great care of you."

Ah, there it was. _Jacob._ Draco's mind quickly focused on the reason he was here. "No, ma'am, I'm not. I've actually come to see a friend of mine, though I'm not sure if she's here today or not."

Something in her face changed almost imperceptibly as Mo heard his last sentence. Almost as if her smile took on a hardened edge to it. "She?" she asked.

Draco eyed the small woman. Though she most likely would have a hard time even reaching his shoulder, something about her struck a small amount of anxiety in him. "Yes," he spoke carefully, watching for further reactions from her. "Her name is Hermione."

"Draco?"

Following the sound of his name, Draco looked behind the unnerving woman in front of him. Noticing for the first time a door behind the desk, he nearly sighed in relief at finding Hermione propped against the door jam. Draco opened his mouth to greet her, but the words died in his throat when a man appeared behind her. A growl of irritation bubbled up in his chest as the mystery man placed a hand on Hermione's hip. Face remaining impassive Draco said the first thing he knew would get Hermione to talk to him alone. "I was hoping we could discuss last Friday."

Hermione's confused expression melted into a perfectly crafted air of indifference. "Is that why you've come?"

Her aloof tone and cool expression floored Draco and brought his practiced speech to a screeching halt. _Was that all she had to say?_ He had thought an apology would be the easiest way to mend things with her. "Yes, I was hoping to give you an explanation and for us to discuss what happened."

Hermione gazed at him unblinkingly for several moments. The aggressive expression from the small woman at the desk and the unbroken eye contact with Hermione was causing his frazzled nerves to unravel even further. He tried to plead with her with his eyes, hoping she wouldn't make him beg in front of strangers. Just as he was about to try and plead his case again, Hermione finally said, "I suppose I can hear you out, but I had an appointment scheduled. You can either wait here with Mo until I'm finished," _So that_ was _her name._ "Or you can come talk while Jacob works."

Glancing at the man behind her, the infamous Jacob with his hand still on Hermione's hip, and then to Mo who was still glaring at him, Draco quickly made up his mind. "I don't want to interrupt your appointment."

The corner of Hermione's mouth quirked up in a way that was slightly unsettling. "Good, you can meet us in the work room through that door there." Hermione pointed to a door at the adjacent wall and then closed the door she had been leaning against. Realizing he was alone with Mo, Draco quickly turned and made his away to the door Hermione had pointed him to. His hand reached for the handle before he was stopped by Mo's voice.

"I know what you did, and I know what she's been through. If you hurt her again, I'll be forced to get involved. Don't make me get involved, Draco." All of this was said in Mo's cheerful voice but caused chills to dance down Draco's spine. He had no doubt she was capable of things that would give even him nightmares. Nodding to show he understood, Draco quickly entered the work room and closed the door behind him. He shivered again; it was almost as if her gaze could penetrate the door and continue to unnerve him.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here's the additional chapter I promised! Again, I'm so sorry about the wait. I just couldn't get the words to do the thing with the sentences and the writing... But I think I figured out the flow I want for the story, so chapters should be a bit easier to write now. Here's to hoping!**

Draco glanced around the room to take in his surroundings and hopefully distract himself from the tiny demon Mo who he could feel was still glaring holes into the door behind him. The workroom was set up similarly to Hermione's back at Virago. Posters of ruler and regulations as well as more tattoo designs littered the walls of the room effectively hiding whatever paint may have covered them. A plush leather chair with a stool sat next to it took up the majority of the space, but what caught Draco's eye was the small table next to the stool.

The shine of metal brought him closer then filled him with confusion. Small metal tools, at least he assumed they were tools, were neatly organized into rows across the table's surface. Some had loops at the ends while others had small blades; all of them baffled Draco as to what their purpose could possibly be. Before he could give into the urge to pick them up and examine them, the workroom door clicked open.

Jacob and Hermione walked in quietly, each immediately moving to set up the room for whatever Hermione's appointment might entail. Draco around to the other side of the leather chair opposite of the stool so he could observe but remain out of the way. Jacob sat down on the stool and began fiddling with was appeared to be clear gloves. Before Draco could make a comment about how useless clear gloves must be, he was distracted by a swift movement from Hermione's direction.

He glanced over in her direction and his mouth ran dry. Hermione had removed the strip of fabric that had held her untamed curls away from her face and was fashioning it around the clump of fabric she'd made at her side. Her shirt now rode up just under her breasts and exposed the expanse of her stomach to the room.

Swiftly throwing up his occlumency shields to try and keep his expression neutral, Draco diverted his attention begrudgingly to Jacob as he started selecting tools from the table next to him. Draco watched in fascination as he used the pair of metal sticks with oddly convenient finger holes to pinch the flesh above Hermione's belly button. Draco grew curious as the next item selected from the table appeared to be a small metal stick, roughly an inch long which a sharpened end. Curiosity quickly turned into horror as Jacob then swiftly stuck the metal bar _through_ the skin he held. Draco swung his horrified gaze to Hermione's face expecting her to scream or curse Jacob but found only an expression of mild discomforting on her features.

His eyes darted back and forth between her face and her mutilated stomach before he finally yelled, "What the bloody hell did you just do?"

Jacob looked up at him with a rather bland expression. "I gave her a piercing." He then returned to his work, replacing the metal stick - a torture device, Draco decided - with a tiny silver bar. On the end of the bar sat a small sapphire.

Had Draco not been distracted by the obvious abuse to Hermione's person he would've admired the way the blue of the gem offset the smooth expanse of her deep bronze skin. Instead he exclaimed, "You just stabbed her in the stomach!"

Hermione grinned in amusement at Draco's reaction and replied calmly, "No, Draco, he pierced my stomach. It's body art kind of like a tattoo."

"People do this willingly?" Draco nearly shrieked at Hermione.

She tried to stiffle her giggles so Jacob could finish cleaning her new peircing. "It doesn't hurt that much, Draco, it looks worse than it is."

"Yeah, man," Jacob added from his position bent over Hermione's stomach. "I've gotten a few myself and didn't so much as flinch."

Draco stilled. This muggle had been stabbed multiple times and didn't flinch? Hermione made sense - dear Salazar, she'd been through a war of course she wouldn't flinch. But a muggle? It sounded like a challenge, and Draco was never one to back down.

Hermione must have seen the look on his face because she very quickly said, "But they aren't something you want to get on a whim because they scar and can be quite permanent."

Draco hummed to acknowledge what she said but didn't take his eyes off Jacob.

"Well sure," Jacob agreed still not looking up from Hermione's stomach, "that's why you start with something small like the ear lobe. That's what just about everyone gets done first."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the insinuation that he was anything like everyone else. "What else could I get?"

Hermione sighed, "Draco, no -"

"You could get a lip piercing." The corner of Jacob's lip, right near his own lip piercing, twitched Draco was sure of it. "That one actually hurts a little."

"Then that's what I want."

Hermione shooed Jacob's hands away and quickly sat up. "Draco, did you not hear a single word I said about _not_ rushing into things?"

Draco finally looked at her and arched a single, elegant brow. "Hermione, I have an entire arm covered in tattoos. I think I'm allowed to get stabbed on a whim now."

The voice in his head that was yelling at him for being so reckless was immediately banished by Hermione's laugh. A small smirk made its way onto his mouth as Draco slid a glance over to Jacob. The ever stoic man remained impassive, and had Draco not been an aristocrat he might've huffed in annoyance.

Hermione rose gracefully from the seat and, much to Draco's disappointment, removed the tie holding her shirt away from her stomaching allowing the fabric to recover her skin. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through the mass of untamed curls and gathered them in a ball on the top of her head. Draco watched in fascination as she wound the fabric around the ball of hair multiple times before letting it go. His eyes widened when her hair stayed on top of her head. Squinting and tilting his head slightly, Draco wondered at the possible magical properties the tie must possess. Perhaps a sticking charm?

Completely oblivious to the baffled blond next to her, Hermione busied herself with sanitizing the equipment and the work station she'd be using. "Since this is your first piercing," her voice finally drew Draco's attention away from her hair. "I'd suggest we do a simple hoop piercing."

Draco nodded along to what she said; however, internally he was scrambling to remember if she'd mentioned different types of piercings. Sure he knew you could get them in different places, but different types? What could she mean by that? He glanced at Jacob and quickly masked his confusion behind his usual stoic expression. Draco swore he saw the corner of Jacob's mouth twitch in amusement, the bastard. Choosing to ignore the man, Draco instead watched Hermione as she bustled about the small room gathering her supplies and muttering quietly to herself.

"Well, I have an appointment coming in a few minutes, so I'll leave you two to your fun." Jacob patted Hermione on the shoulder as he moved to the door. "It was nice meeting you, Darren."

Draco whipped his head around to look at Jacob, but the man was already closing the door behind himself. "Darren?" Draco muttered skeptically. "That's not even close to my name." Assuming the man was simply lacking in intelligence, Draco missed the amused roll of Hermione's eyes.

"Alright, Draco, if you'll take a seat," Hermione gestured to the black seat she'd previously occupied. "We can go ahead and get started."

"How long does this process usually take?" Draco asked as he made himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as one can be in what was a clearly abused leather chair. Perhaps muggles didn't know that proper method for caring for leather? Draco shook his head at his thought.

"Oh, not too long."

Draco tried not to frown at her vague answer. Any frustration he felt immediately leaked from his body when he felt her take hold of his lip. Sure, she was wearing gloves, but her hand on his mouth and face so close to his was enough to knock the next breath out of his chest. He closed his eyes to try and regain his composure and thus missed the moment Hermione stuck the piercing needle through his lower lip.

"Holy mother of Merlin what the bloody fucking hell, Hermione?!"

"No don't move!"

Draco swatted her away with one and and moved the other to protect his mouth. The expression of absolute betrayal on his face sent Hermione doubled over into a fit of laughter as the poor blonde clutched his assaulted lip. "WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"

He gazed down at the wheezing girl leaned against his chair and immediately glared at the top of her curls. Of course she found amusement in his pain, a woman had handled getting stabbed better than he had. Thank Merlin Jacob hadn't been in the room, or Draco would've had to apparate out, change his name, and live off the coast of Norway for the remainder of his life. The shame would've been too great to bear, but seeing as it was Hermione he didn't mind adding, "Why the bloody fuck would you have that done willingly? And to your stomach of all places? Have you _completely_ lost your senses? Because I _haven't_! I can sense every amount of pain that _damned_ torture device caused!"

After taking several gasping breaths, Hermione finally pulled herself upright. Her face was flushed and her eyes shone with tears from laughing so hard. "Draco," she choked down another laugh, "it doesn't hurt that bad. There's no need to be so dramatic"

"Doesn't hurt that -! DRAMATIC? Hermione! You shoved a _hole_ through my _lip_!"

Hermione grinned and shook her head at his antics. "Oh come on, you've been through worse."

Draco growled, "Regardless of what I've been through, it doesn't change the fact that you just ruined my perfectly handsome face."

"But not your humility, I see," She quipped. "Just let me finish, and then you can complain."

"You're not done yet?"

The volume of Draco's voice caused Hermione to scowl at him. She picked up a small, silver object from the tool tray and waved it in his face. The object was too close to his eyes for him to make out what it was, so he waited for her explanation and resisted the urge to look at it cross-eyed.

"I can't just leave the needle in your lip, Draco. I have to put the ring through it."

Eyeing her warily, Draco slowly leaned back in the seat. "Very well then, do as you must."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his dramatics and quickly exchanged the needle for the ring before he could throw another fit. Sitting back to admire her handy work, Hermione beamed. "Personally, I think it's a good addition."

Still glaring, Draco allowed himself a moment to inwardly preen under her compliment. He gently brushed his fingers against his lip to feel the new addition. The metal felt strange and out of place. "Was it worth the pain, is the question?"

Hermione leaned in close and gazed intently at the thin, silver hoop looped through the left side of his lower lip. The look in her eyes caused Draco to swallow thickly. "Yes, I'd say it was definitely worth it."


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: You know, this story started out as a plot bunny with no intention of being a slow burn. But then this chapter happened, and I was like...oh... Also apologies as always for the wait, adulting is harder than I thought. But the next chapter is in the work, and my boyfriend is on my case about writing all the time. So hopefully it'll be out soon! Love to you all!**

Impulse was a luxury very few Slytherins had the pleasure of experiencing, but oh did Draco enjoy every moment of it. The impulse that had seized him sung through his veins and caused his heart to beat near painfully in his chest. _Thump thump_. He sank his fingers into her hair, sent a silent prayer up to any god listening, then kissed her, kissed her with every conflicting emotion he was feeling. He kissed for forgiveness, he kissed an apology, and he kissed to erase all the years of rivalry. The sting of pressure on his new piercing was a mere echo compared to the satisfaction rushing through him.

Draco reluctantly pulled back from the kiss and gazed at the beautiful witch before him. Hermione's eyes were wide, her mouth slightly parted. All bravado had escaped her. She blinked once, and a nervousness began to settle through him. She blinked again, and Draco swore his heart was about to leap up his throat. He made to pull his fingers from her hair and attempt to leave but was stopped by the smile that tweaked the corners of her mouth.

"It's about damn time."

Whatever witty retort he had died on his tongue when Hermione leaned in for a second kiss. He was completely taken in by every minute detail of her. The softness of her hair between his fingers, the feeling of her lips pressed against his, the taste of mint; it enveloped him and filled his senses. He found himself releasing a quiet sigh of contentment.

Their moment was shattered by the loud thud of the door being thrown open and hitting the wall behind it. "Can I see it?" being shouted through the room was the only warning Draco got before the tiny devil that ran the front desk was mere centimeters from his face. Draco jerked back at the sudden intrusion of his personal space and whacked his head against the headrest of the chair he was in. Grunting at the impact, Draco went on the defensive, one hand clutching the back of his head and the other moving to his pocket for his wand.

Hermione, immediately realizing the reaction Draco would have to such a sudden intrusion, grabbed Miranda and pulled her back from the startled blonde. "Mo! You can't just barge in like that!" She turned her friend around to face her and glared softly in reprimand.

Miranda's smile was slightly apologetic as she shrugged. "Sorry, Hermione, you know how my enthusiasm gets the best of me at times."

"That's the understatement of the century." Jacob's drawl came from the doorway as he came to retrieve their exuberant friend. "I told you to wait until Hermione was finished."

Miranda rolled her eyes at Jacob and pouted. "Yeah, but piercings never take that long, and I wanted to see what it looked like." Eyes lighting at the thought, she turned quickly to look at Draco and inspect his new piercing. Minding his space this time, she only leaned in slightly. "It looks really good, Dan! I like the simplicity of it."

"Draco," he grumbled to correct her. His frustration was mounting with each person that entered the room. "But thank you, Hermione did an excellent job."

Hermione smiled at his praise. "Draco was a trooper. He hardly even flinched," she added with a wink.

Jacob hummed from his position still leaned against the doorway and looked at Draco. "Thought I heard a ruckus early, but that must have been from outside."

Draco remained stone faced as he stared Jacob down. Refusing to admit that the lip piercing had hurt, Draco pushed himself up from the seat to stand. "It was just a prick, nothing more. Nothing to fuss about." He thought he heard a faint snort from Hermione's direction but continued to look at Jacob. The man could've been a Slytherin had he any magic in him, his expressionless mask was nearly impressive. Nearly.

Miranda bounced between the two men and huffed loudly. "If you two are done squaring up and puffing your chests, Jacob has a client." Curiosity abated, she winked at Hermione and left the room. Jacob quietly followed and shut the door behind him.

Jacob and Miranda entered the quiet shop and made their way back over to the front desk. Glancing around the noticeably empty parlor, Jacob commented wryly, "Man, I really am swamped with clients."

Miranda threw an eyeroll at him from over her shoulder. "Oh please, you didn't actually buy that. I was just giving us a clean exit." She leaned herself against the counter and began absentmindedly flipping through a magazine. "I figured Hermione would prefer we weren't present for their much needed conversation."

"Conversation?" Jacob leaned against the counter opposite her and tugged one of her curls. "She's going to put the man through the ringer."

Huffing a breathe to blow the loosened girl out of her breath, Miranda argued, "And you think he doesn't deserve it after everything he's done?"

Jacob hummed in agreement. "He was pretty dreadful when they were young."

Miranda snorted while flipping a page. "That hardly covers it. He was a beast of a boy when they were in school and even worse when they left."

"Some could argue that the circumstances weren't exactly in his favor."

"Are you defending him?"

"Of course not," Jacob stole her magazine and flipped through the pages. "However, I wasn't there, so I can't cast judgement on a man I hardly know."

Miranda scowled softly and grumbled, "Maybe, but that doesn't mean I have to like him."

Jacob chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Well, of course not. Mo likes who Mo likes."

She scowled harder and threw her arms over her head to protect her hair. "Damn straight." Arms still crossed over her mane of curls, Miranda paused for a second in thought. "I may not like him, but if Hermione feels he's worth the effort, perhaps Draco Malfoy has a chance at redemption after all."

* * *

"What muggles lack in decorum they certainly make up for in enthusiasm," Draco drawled.

Hermione chuckled from behind him. He caught her wry smile as he turned to face her. "Miranda is harmless for the most part, just overly friendly at times."

Draco nodded in agreement with what was again an understatement. "The same can't really be said about the other one."

"Jacob isn't that bad," Hermione defended. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow. "At least he honors his commitments."

Draco flinched slightly. In all the commotion he'd forgotten his original purpose for coming here. "Hermione, I can't apologize enough for standing you up."

"No, you can't," she agreed. Her posture remained aloof. "In fact, it was probably the most insulting thing you could have done. I didn't realize you were completely lacking in manners and so inconsiderate of other people."

Draco took a few tentative steps towards her while his mind tried to come up with a way to properly apologize and explain. "I went to visit my father. The appointment was scheduled with enough time for me to make it to dinner with you if I hurried, but... Seeing what Azkaban and the War had done to him... He was such a regal, imposing figure throughout my childhood that it was jarring to see him so worn. Deteriorated, even. He was rambling madly about rallying the troops and escaping. I had a hard time calming him down. By the time I made it home, I was so exhausted, I couldn't..." Draco trailed off, eyes on the floor and shoulders heavy.

Hermione felt the heat of her anger leave her, bones chilling with the sadness she could see weighing him down. She was still hurt, but the man before her was hurting from an even deeper pain. And for him to share it with her? "Why didn't you say anything," she asked quietly. "You could have owled."

Draco frowned at the ground slightly. "Writing an apology doesn't mean nearly as much as coming to you in person. By the time I got up the courage to face you, you were gone." He was startled by the feeling of Hermione wrapping her arms around his waist. He stood still for a moment before tentatively wrapping his arms around her. Her head resting against his chest brought an unfamiliar sense of comfort to him. He rested his chin on her curls and closed his eyes, basking in her warmth.

After a few moments, Hermione pulled her head back and looked up at him. "Next time, send me an owl. Then we won't have to go through the unnecessary frustrations."

"I will," he promised. "Anything to avoid the wrath of Mo."

Laughing at his comment, she went to leave the room but was stopped when he grabbed her hand. She tilted her head and asked, "Is there something else?"

"I want to make it up to you."

Hermione smiled at him and shook her head softly. "There's no need, I forgive you. It was just a misunderstanding."

Draco tugged on her hand to bring her closer to him, the look in his eyes changing from apologetic to something a bit more mischievous. "There's no way to make it up to you?" Draco rested his hands on Hermione's hips and lowered his voice. "None at all?"

Hermione hummed and looped her arms around his neck. "Well, I can think of _one_ way..."

"And what might that be?"

She leaned up on her tiptoes and, lips brushing his ear, whispered, "Woo me."


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Hey gang, sorry this took me a while to upload. I had trouble getting Blaise's voice to sound right. And a shout-out to alogan0213 for letting me know the chapter didn't upload properly. Hopefully this one works!**

The atmosphere of the office was still, the only sound being the crackle of the fire in the fireplace and the muffled footsteps of Draco's pacing. An empty glass of firewhiskey sat on the mantle with an equally empty bottle perched next to it. A thoroughly unimpressed Blaise lounged on the armchair across from the fire, more interested in the empty glass in his hand than his friend's plight.

"A tragedy," Blaise grumbled quietly.

"It's not a tragedy, just a complication." Draco replied absentmindedly, still prowling from one side of the room to the other.

Blaise rolled his eyes and laid his head back against the armchair. "Not everything is about you, Draco. I was talking about our more immediate problem: we're out of liquor."

Draco gave his friend a bland look. "I hardly think more liquor is going to help us solve my predicament."

"Us?" Blaise questioned. "I'm not drinking to help you, mate. Oh no, I'm drinking so I can handle your dramatics."

"You're certainly one to talk about dramatics."

Ignoring the quip, Blaise moved to the liquor cabinet and rifled through the contents.

Draco resumed his pacing. _Woo me._ Hermione's words echoed through his mind, a chill running down his spine at the memory of her breath in his ear, the enticing tone of her voice. Wooing a woman was an art he'd mastered long ago in his years at Hogwarts. He'd prided himself in his ability to ensnare any female who caught his fancy. But this was Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, and Brightest Witch of Her Age. He might as well throw his entire book of gambits out his office window.

Blaise raised a bottle triumphantly from the cabinet. Hearing a low growl of frustration from behind him, he sighed and shook his head. "Not strong enough," he muttered sadly and replaced the bottle.

"It shouldn't be this difficult," Draco grumbled.

"You're right," Blaise agreed, still digging through the cabinet's contents. "It shouldn't be. You're one of the most desirable bachelor in England, second only to myself of course. Wooing a woman should be second nature to you. Flirtations as easy as breathing. And yet," Blaise threw a condescending look over his shoulder towards Draco. "Here we are."

The corner of Draco's lip twitched in irritation. "You are the least helpful wizard I've ever met."

"I can't be useful all the time, it's bad for my image."

The room fell into silence again as Draco resumed his pacing. His mind raced with possibilities, each discarded more quickly than the last. Hermione was too unique for any of the usual methods to work. She would catch on immediately and revoke his second chance. He would need something much more clever than the tricks he usually used. His pacing halted midstep, foot held suspended in the air. _Tricks_. That's where he was going wrong. No mere trick would work because this wasn't a fling to be sought after and then discarded. Draco resisted the urge to hit himself for his own stupidity.

Ignorant to his friend's revelation, Blaise finally contributed, "We could always call on Pansy to help. She's a girl." Draco snorted at the obvious statement. "Which means she'd be able to offer insightful advice. If she's feeling particularly helpful today, of course."

Draco shook his head in disagreement and made his way to the office window overlooking a small garden. "I would rather leave Pansy out of the loop on this one."

"If she's not already working out her own plan to help you."

Draco bit back a sigh at the truth of the statement. Leave it to Pansy to get overly involved. "Regardless, this is something that can be done without her. I want calling on Pansy to be my absolute last resort. She meddles too much for my liking." A sound near the fireplace drew Draco's attention, and he turned in time to see the fire turn green with a floo call.

Blaise crooked a falsely apologetic smile at Draco. "Apologies in advance, mate."

Before Draco could protest, his fireplace whooshed and spit out the witch in question. Daintily dusting off her robes, Pansy surveyed the room. "I hear my expertise in the wooing of women is required?"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and resisted the urge to hit his friend over the head. "Blaise," he growled.

The man just grinned and grabbed a new bottle from the liquor cabinet, one that apparently met his preferences. "Your grumbling and pacing was giving me a migraine," he said by way of explanation. "There's no decent liquor left, and I needed something to entertain myself."

Draco plucked the bottle from Blaise's hand as he passed him and placed it on the mantle. Ignoring his complaining, Draco turned to Pansy. "While I appreciate you dropping in to help me, Pans, it really won't be necessary."

Pansy looked from Draco to a pouting Blaise to the empty bottle on the mantle and back to Draco, then arched a single, dark brow at him. "Yes, I can see you have it very well handled," she drawled.

"Yes, well," Draco attempted to find an excuse that would convince Pansy to leave, but was immediately cut off.

"If you're going to be trying to woo a witch who more or less despised your very existence for nearly a decade, you're going to need all the help you can get." Pansy waved her wand creating a single glass of wine which she delicately raised to her lips while moving to occupy the armchair across from the fireplace. "To begin, you should start simply."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Yes, because simple is going to work so well with her."

"Don't interrupt," Pansy quipped. "Especially with things you know little about."

Draco cut off what was sure to be an indignant rant about Blaise's wondrous ways with women and asked, "How simply are you thinking?"

Pansy hummed and swirled her drink slowly in thought. "Small gestures to begin with. They'll show you are putting in the effort and are thinking about her. Grand displays of public affection will seem thoughtless getting you nowhere. Subtlety with meaning will go farther than empty theatricalities."

"So what are you going to do," Blaise asked sardonically, "send her flowers?"

"Of course not," Pansy said defensively.

Draco let out a breath of relief. He was worried about the tricks Pansy planned on pulling out of her sleeves. "Flowers is far too overdone, Blaise."

Blaise scoffed, "Well of course they are. That's why I assumed she would want to use them."

"And is that why you used them on Pamella in fifth year?" Pansy retorted.

"It worked well enough on you when Rosier sent them to you in third year!"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I was acting, Blaise. I didn't want to hurt his delicate sensitivities before a quidditch match."

"Oh, because you've always cared so much for the illustrious sport?"

"You sound like a petulant child trying to use big words he heard the adults using."

"If you consider "illustrious" a big word, Parkison, your intelligence is even lower than I thought." Blaise put a hand to his chin in thought." Is that even possible?"

"Quite, haven't you heard yourself, Zabini? Your wit is as lacking as a confounded Hufflepuff first year."

Blaise gasped loudly and put his hand to his chest. "How dare you, you self-obsessed -"

"Oh I'm self-obsessed?"

"And egotistical!"

"Those are synonyms, you half-wit."

"Is that the best you can come up with?"

Blaise and Pansy were toe to toe spitting insults in each other's faces while Draco looked on from his position leaned against the window frame. Having seen this behavior before he was entirely unamused by their antics.

"It's the only insult your little Italian brain can understand."

"You can't use Italian as an insult, Pansy, it's a compliment."

"You're right, how silly of me. It's the only insult your little Gryffindor brain can understand!"

"Oi! That's too far!"

"Is it? After all, you are what you eat. Wasn't there a rumor about you and Finnegan going around?"

Blaise blanched, going pale despite his olive complexion. "I would never!"

"Oh is that too far? I didn't think you were capable of having standards."

"Says the one who was caught snogging Crabbe in fourth year."

"That was a dare during Game Night!" Pansy shrieked indignantly. "That doesn't count!"

"Then neither do rumors!"

"They do if they're true!"

"Enough." Draco ended the argument before it came to blows. The two had enough blackmail material for the conversation to go on for centuries as well as a reputation for knock-down-drag-outs that would make the Gryffindors jealous. "What did you have in mind, Pansy?"

* * *

Confusion was not often an emotion seen on the face of owls, but this particular bird was having a difficult night. Carrying a package nearly as large as himself, Hermes struggled against the night winds. His master had asked him to venture out in the dead of night and travel through the cold rain all the way to - what was the lady's name again?

Landing less than gracefully on a rooftop, Hermes ruffled his grey feathers and clicked his beak in irritation. His master would owe him many treats for this escapade. His yellow eyes gazed over the rooftops, slowly inspecting each window through the rain, before a blue light caught his attention. He took flight again and flew toward the window outlined in a blue glow- an indication of his destination. Perching precariously on the wet windowsill and minding the package gripped tightly in his talons, Hermes pecked against the glass. When he wasn't immediately allowed inside, angry yellow eyes took in the room before him.

Fairy lights were strung haphazardly across the ceiling, bathing the room in a warm yellow glow. Books littered every available service, some left open to important passages to be remembered and others bookmarked with various items. Curled up in the corner of the room and nearly swallowed by an overstuffed chair, Hermione sat quietly reading.

If owls could frown, this one did. Hermes beat his beak against the window again, this time with more gusto. Ignorant to the angry bundle of feathers outside her window, Hermione slowly turned the page of her book and continued reading. Irate at being left out in the rain, Hermes let out an ear piercing screech. The sound was so jarring that it caused Hermione to drop her book and draw her wand to defend herself. Realizing the sound had been a tiny, rain soaked owl, Hermione chuckled to herself and went to let the poor creature in.

A quick tussle and several nips to Hermione's fingers later left Hermes bundled in a hand towel on the kitchen counter and Hermione nursing her wounds. She wondered at the look of simultaneous contentment and smug satisfaction on the owl's face before turning her attention to the package he'd brought her. Hermione eyed the nondescript box curiously and opened the note attached to the top, taking notice of the weather protection charms artfully used on the packaging.

"Hermione, please accept this gift as a step towards a second chance. - D" Hermione's curiosity was piqued at the familiar handwriting, and she eagerly opened the small gift. Removing the box's lid, her smile faded slightly, and she sighed, "Oh dear."


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Forever apologizing for the long waits! I've been having issues with my boyfriend which makes writing anything romantic relatively difficult... Relationship issues aside, I hope you enjoy! As always feel free to leave a comment/review, your thoughts make my day.**

"That's the most ridiculous gift he could have gotten you," Ginny managed to say through her wheezing laughter. "Your parents are teeth healers!"

"Dentists," Hermione corrected absentmindedly. She'd had to explain the concept several times to Ginny before she'd fully understood why a box of chocolates sat uneaten on her kitchen counter. Hermione smiled lightly at the gift. It was a sweet gesture, but sweets held no appeal.

Ginny plucked a chocolate from the box and popped it into her mouth. "He'll have to get to know you first if he hopes to make any progress with wooing you."

"I'll have to owl him a note," Hermione said while picking up the box of chocolates. "I'd return them but..." She arched an eyebrow at her friend and tilted the half eaten box in her direction.

Ignoring the implication of her poor manners, Ginny plucked another chocolate from the box. "I'll give him points, he's got good taste."

Hermione handed her the rest of the box in forfeit and went to retrieve her stationary from her desk. "It's a sweet gesture, just misinformed. At least he's going a more subtle route."

"As opposed to?" Ginny asked around a mouth full of sweets causing Hermione's nose to wrinkle.

"He could've pulled a very dramatic, public stunt that would've embarrassed us both. It would've ended up in the papers completely blown out of proportion and ruined both of our careers. Not to mention the public backlash."

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione's worst-case-scenario mentality. "Fair enough. What are you writing?"

"I'm going to owl him a note thanking him for the gift but apologize for not being able to enjoy it."

-..-

"For fuck's sake."

Draco's exasperated shouting startled Blaise from his drunkenly sprawled position on what he now deemed to be his chair. "Whatsit?" He mumbled and rubbed at his face. Focusing on Draco's renewed pacing made him nauseous.

"She doesn't eat chocolate," Draco answered in astonishment.

Blaise blinked hard twice. "Well thas jus inhuman."

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise and chastised, "Zabini, you're slurring your words."

"Am not!" Blaise popped up in his chair indignantly. The intimidation was lost, however, when he swayed in his seat, eyes struggling to focus on Draco.

Draco frowned slightly and made his way to the fireplace to floo his more sober and much more helpful friend. The flames whooshed green, and he stuck his head in. Unable to find her in the living room of her flat, Draco yelled, "Pansy, are you home?"

"What is it, Draco? I'm busy," her voice carried from another room outside of Draco's field of vision.

"Blaise is drunk, and I'm in need of assistance."

There was a pause, then she entered the room at a brusque pace. "Move over, I'm on my way."

Pulling his head back out of the fireplace, Draco reassessed the mess that was Blaise. He was lounged across his favorite chair in the most undignified manner, head lolled back over one armrest and limbs sprawled haphazardly across the other. Draco shook his head and left Blaise to his drunken stupor.

"Blaise, you're looking more useless than usual," Pansy quipped announcing her arrival.

"She doesn't eat chocolates." Draco barely gave her any time to step out of the fireplace and brush herself off. "I'm back to square one."

"I told you we should do things my way," Blaise mumbled.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "That's the last thing we want to do." She read over the note Draco held out to her before handing it back to him. "So she doesn't eat chocolates, it's hardly the end of the world. We can come up with something else."

Draco tiredly ran a hand over his face. "She probably doesn't think I care, and that I'm not fully invested."

"She probably just thinks you're stupid," Blaise chirped helpfully.

"Oh and you're so much smarter?" Pansy retorted.

"If you'd let me do my idea, yeah!" Blaise raised his head and glared at Pansy. "It's a good one," he whined.

"You can try next time," she lied sweetly.

Draco reclaimed her attention and asked, "What do you think I should do?"

She looked thoughtfully into space for a moment before suggesting, "We could always go back to our first idea."

-..-

Hermione was startled awake by the most disgruntled owl sitting on her chest. Eyeing the aggressive expression it wore, she gently reached forward to move him off her chest. Recognizing the owl from the previous night, Hermione stroked a fingertip gently over it's head. "Good morning," she cooed quietly. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Slowly leaning into her stroking hand, the owl hooted softly. He allowed Hermione to lift him off her chest and carry him into her kitchenette. She put together a small bowl of owl feed and stroked his feathers a few more times before trying to figure out how the owl had gotten into her room. Hermione was distracted from her search, however, by a spot of bright yellow that caught her attention. Sitting on her kitchen table was a large bouquet of sunflowers.

"Oh no." Hermione quickly covered her face with her hands and held her breath. It was too late. Her chest clenched tight as she tried to fight the inevitable, and her eyes watered from the strain.

"Ah - ah - ACHOO!"

-..-

"Son of a bitch!"

"HA!" Blaise thrust his finger into Pansy's face. "I told you flowers were stupid!"

Pansy glared at Blaise and slowly moved his finger out of her face. "Astounding, Zabini, you managed to have a thought and remember it later. Who knew you were capable?"

"Ladies, could we focus on the issue at hand please? We've managed to find the one food she does not eat and the one flower she is allergic to. We're effectively back to square one." Draco crumpled up Hermione's most recent note and threw it into Blaise's face effectively distracting him from retaliating with Pansy.

A wicked smile lit Blaise's face. "Does that mean -"

"No." Draco's tone left no room for argument.

"But you said -"

"No," Pansy snapped. She glared at him to try and silence him, but their childhood either left him immune or oblivious.

"But Draco -"

"There has to be another idea, another move." Draco faced Pansy which effectively cut Blaise out of the conversation. "I could ask her to dinner?"

"She's probably afraid of receiving mail from you now." Pansy held her hand up against Blaise's mouth to silence his stream of protests.

"I could visit her at work?"

"That's too public."

"What if I -"

"Did you just LICK MY HAND?" Pansy screeched and wheeled on Blaise who looked all too smug. "You disgusting waste of space! You imbecilic, narcissistic cretin! I should remove your tongue for that!"

Blaise waves his hand dismissively. "If you had listened to me the first time, I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures."

Pansy growled, "What. Do. You. Want?"

"All I needed to say is it's taken care of."

Pansy and Draco went very still. The temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees, and Draco stared at Blaise blankly. "What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

Blaise looked smug. "It was my turn to take a crack at it, and it's taken care of."

Pansy took a step back narrowly missing Draco's arm when he made a grab for the collar of Blaise's shirt. Blaise danced out of reach quickly with the faintest glimmer of dread in his dark eyes.

"What do you mean, it's taken care of?" The icey threat dripping from Draco's voice sent a chill down Blaise's spine and caused him to swallow thickly.

"I had a plan," he explained quietly, "and it's already in motion."

Draco's expression darkened. "Then call it off."

"But it took me three weeks to train those doves," he protested weakly.

"Doves?"

-..-

There is a feeling of horror that very few people experience in their lifetime. It sweeps the body with a hollow, numbing chill before exploding into the hottest anger. It's a full-bodied emotion followed by deep seated rage and humiliation. Hermione has experience this type of horror exactly twice in her life, and this was unfortunately one of those times.

She had been standing in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic discussing the by-laws of a new reform, as she would on any normal morning, when the most ungodly sight and cacophony of noise harassed her senses. Twelve doves magically appeared in the middle of the atrium in an explosion of feathers and flower petals carrying a massive heart built entirely of gaudy red and pink roses. The already horrific sight was only made worse when the doves opened their beaks and let out what Hermione hesitated to call a song:

 _Hermione, oh Hermione_  
 _The loveliest sight are thee_  
 _Such beauty and radiance_  
 _My eyes have ne'er seen_  
 _You set my heart aflutter_  
 _Whene'er you look my way_  
 _Please grant me the greatest pleasure_  
 _And join me for dinner today?_

The song finally ended, and the dramatic harp music that had been playing in accompaniment with the singing reached a crescendo causing Hermione's already startled heartbeat to quicken even further. The doves flew directly over her head a rained down an absurd amount of rose petals and, to her mounting horror, glitter onto her head.

The silence that followed the doves magical disappearance caused Hermione's ears to ring. She could feel her face flushing warm and red underneath her now sparkling skin and wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear.

-..-

"Your first mistake was not speaking with me first."

Draco's sighed and let his forehead drop forward into his clasped hands. "My sincerest apologies. I didn't realize I was supposed to come to you for romantic advice, Mother."

Narcissa gave him a condescending look. "Do you honestly think your father was the one to take the lead in that department of our relationship?"

"No, Mother, I try not to consider your relationship at all if I can help it."

"Well maybe you should have, considering how miserably you've been failing."

Draco gave his mother a disgruntled look. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"On the contrary." Narcissa daintily poured herself a cup of tea seemingly oblivious to her son's bruised ego. "I would almost think you didn't consider the young woman at all before coming up with your hair-brained schemes. It would appear as if you ran into the situation blindly and treated her just like any other witch. But that's absurd because I raised you better. Isn't that correct, Draco?"

Looking properly chastised, Draco accepted a cup of tea from his mother and offered her the small tray of milk and sugar. "I did try to consider her, but then I was caught up in all of the ideas Blaise and Pansy were coming up with."

"Let me cut you off there," she interrupted sternly. "Why would you take advice of any kind from those two? They are hardly experienced when it comes to taking relationships seriously."

"They're my friends, Mother."

"They are children, and their ideas are only halfway thought through at the best of times."

"Pansy had decent suggestions."

"And yet," Narcissa eyed him over the rim of her tea cup with a twinkle if amusement in her eye. "Here we are."

"Here we are." Draco's tone of voice conveyed his defeat.

They sat in silence for several moments, silently sipping their tea. Several times Draco glanced at his mother, but Narcissa gave nothing away. She was gazing at the garden around them, appearing to take in the beauty of the fully blooming plants around them.

He finally caved. "Will you help me, please?"

The smile Narcissa gave him was warm and revealed the flurry of ideas already being analysed in her mind. "I thought you would never ask."


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** **And we finally get to the good stuff! I know this chapter was too fluffy, but it's just a lead up for the next one, I promise! As always, thanks for reading. You guys are amazing, and your support and reviews always bring a smile to my face. Next chapter is already in the works! See ya next time!**

-..-

"You want me to ask her to dinner?" Draco asked slowly, his disbelief written clearly on his face. "Mother, did you not listen to anything I've told you?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Draco. I can hear you just fine." Narcissa rose from the tea table and waited for her son to join her, lightly taking his arm as he led her through the garden. "A quiet dinner in that small box you call a home will be a good starting place for the both of you."

Ignoring the dig at his living conditions, Draco protested, "After everything that has happened, she won't agree to it."

"You'll have to apologize first." A small, knowing smile touched the corner of Narcissa's mouth for the briefest second. "I'm sure you've come to that conclusion on your own, correct?"

Draco swallowed his indignant reply and was silent for a long moment. They continued their slow walk through the Manor's sprawling garden, stopping every so often so Narcissa could tend to her flowers. Draco's eyes glazed over as his mind wandered, his feet subconsciously following the familiar path across the grounds.

Apologizing was not his strong suit. Whenever he had attempted it in the past, insults and blows usually followed. What would he even say to her? _I'm sorry my friends are complete idiots lacking any form of decorum, forethought, or intelligence? And that I was stupid enough to listen to either of them?_ He snorted quietly. _Yes, I'm sure she'd believe that._ The crease of his brow deepened with every passing solution-less second until he was fully glaring at the plants in front of him.

"Draco, darling, I know you dislike humbling yourself, but you're scaring my flowers."

Sure enough, Narcissa's beautiful rosemary blossoms were quivering and hiding behind their leaves. Draco whispered a soft apology and continued walking, this time with a less threatening, slightly more thoughtful expression on his face. It wouldn't do to frighten Mother's plants; she'd given him a week long silent treatment that last time he'd frightened her roses. He hadn't meant to crash his broom into the middle of their bush, but Narcissa wouldn't speak to him until he had apologized. Sincerely. To flowers. His swallowed pride had hurt worse than the countless thorns he'd received for his troubles.

But apologizing to Hermione would be much more difficult than apologizing to roses.

He mulled over several different ways he would approach the subject before finally deciding to write her a letter. It was somewhat cowardly which was not a word he would often apply to himself, but it was a fair assessment after his previous mishaps. _Cowardly, half-witted, terribly ill-equipped when dealing with women. Take your pick._ Yes, a letter was cowardly, but it was also safe.

"If you're planning on apologizing through an owl, you can cease that train of thought immediately." Draco gave Narcissa a startled, wide-eyed stare. "Oh, honestly," she scoffed. "I raised you; I can see your 'I found a way around something difficult' smirk from across the Manor. She deserves more than a letter, Draco."

He sighed in defeat and conceded, "I know. I just don't know how she'll react, and that concerns me."

"As it should." The smirk Narcissa directed at him was far too satisfied for his liking. "You've upset a woman with more fire inside her than anyone I've met. If she can give you a good knock in the nose as a child, I can't imagine what she'd be capable of now."

The thought sent a shiver of dread down Draco's spine. He hadn't considered that. He hadn't considered her anger at all, and that had to be the greatest misstep he'd made so far.

"I expect another visit from you after you've had dinner with her. I want to hear all about it." The mischievous smile confirmed Draco's suspicions that the dinner wasn't the story Narcissa would be digging for.

—…—

"So, let me get this straight. He spent a most likely ungodly amount of time training twelve doves to find you, carry an enormous heart made out of roses, and sing to you thinking that somehow this would not only win your favor? And this was supposed to inspire some form of the word "seduced" to enter your mind while simultaneously keeping whatever love affair might develop flawlessly under the radar?"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Yes, apparently he did."

Miranda was quiet for several moments looking as contemplative as she could from her upside down position in the florescent green beanbag chair. She squinted her eyes and asked, "Did it work?"

"Of course it didn't work," she exclaimed indignantly. "It was the most absurd display of stupidity I've ever seen!"

"Oh I'm sure it was," Miranda agreed, trying to nod her head while still sitting upside down. It was no easy feat but she managed to only hit her head on the floor three times. A new record, she silently celebrated. "You have to admit, though, the attention was probably nice."

A pillow was immediately lobbed at Miranda's head. "It was not! I was so embarrassed," Hermione fumed. "There were so many important politicians there and people I respect. I can't show my face there any time soon." Lost in her distressed thoughts, she barely managed to dodge the returned pillow.

"At least he wasn't there," Miranda tried to comfort her clearly stressing friend. "Now the tabloids can only speculate who it was without any real proof. It'll blow over fairly quickly, I'm sure."

"I certainly hope so," Hermione mumbled. She clutched another pillow tightly to her stomach and stared off into space, searching the light gray carpet of Miranda's bedroom for any sort of wisdom or answers. "I should've known he wouldn't take this seriously."

"Since when was romance supposed to be serious?"

"Oh what would you know?"

"A whole lot, thank you very much," came Miranda's haughty reply. She sprung up from the beanbag chair and struck a dramatic pose. "I have many a suitor myself, wouldn't you know? The men are tripping over themselves for a chance to date the Miraculous Mo!" Whatever air of superiority she was trying to achieve was ruined by her too large, rubber ducky covered pajamas.

Hermione toppled from her chair while clutching her stomach in laughter. Smiling at her friend, Mo rolled her eyes. Hermione always acted so serious about everything, it was good to hear her laugh so freely. After she settled down, Mo posed a new thought, "Are you even sure he was the one who sent it?"

Hermione looked baffled at the notion of multiple suitors. "Who else could it possibly have been?"

Mo's response was cut off when a series of cheerful musical notes played softly. Recognizing the doorbell to the tattoo shop downstairs, the girls looked at each other in confusion.

"Who could that possibly be?" Hermione made her way across Miranda's cluttered room to peer out the window. The multicolored glass caused the image below her to kaleidoscope, but the shock of white blond hair on the shop's front stairs was unmistakable. "What is Draco doing here?"

Miranda appeared next to Hermione, her curls blocking Hermione's view of Draco. "Maybe he's come to apologize?"

Hermione sighed, "Here we go again."

"Would it be frowned upon if I disabled the doorbell and made 'I'm sorry, Hermione' the password to get inside?"

Hermione sent Miranda a playful glare. "Yes, that would be very frowned upon and very childish."

"Bummer."

—..—

Having been raised with proper manners, Draco was doing his absolute best not to stare. After all, knitting wasn't something he was unfamiliar with. His mother used to knit often, preferring to knit by hand rather than by magic like most witches. However normal it was, seeing a fully grown man knitting was simply unsettling.

He'd ventured into White Wolf Designs for the second time to apologize to Hermione. The whole situation had given him a massive sense of deja vu. Everything except Jacob knitting a baby blue sweater. It wasn't like the man was hiding it either; he had placed himself in — sweet Merlin — an ornate rocking chair in the middle of the White Wolf's front room. He looked every part the grandmother. It was downright disturbing.

Draco attempted to piece together a polite way to ask Jacob what the hell he was doing but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Slowly taking his eyes off the uncomfortable sight before him, Draco turned and caught sight of Hermione entering the room.

She was swathed in a forest green sweater so large it covered her hands and revealed the majority of her right shoulder. She was wearing those tight muggle pants that he knew would turn see through should she happen to bend over, and to tie the outfit together her feet were covered in fuzzy gray socks. She was such a combined image of sexy and adorable that she completely derailed any train of thought or apology he might have had. His brain hardly registered her speaking to Jacob because the only thing he wanted was to take her hair out of the knot it was in on her head and run his fingers through her curls. When she turned to look at him directly, Draco struggled to focus.

"Chocolates?" Hermione cocked a hip to the side and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked pissed.

Draco swallowed hard to keep himself focused on the conversation and not how attractive she looked and mumbled, "I didn't know your parents were dentists."

Hermione squinted and asked, "Sunflowers?"

"I didn't know you were allergic." He made his way over to her cautiously while trying to gauge how angry she was.

"And the doves?"

Draco took a deep breath and prayed to any god listening that Blaise would drop dead. "It was Blaise's idea; he didn't ask before he did anything. It was too late to stop him when I found out what he'd done. I am so incredibly sorry, Hermione."

Hermione hummed and walked up close to him. She took hold of the bottom edge of the shirt he was wearing and began fiddling with the fabric. Slowly looking up at him through her lashes, she whispered, "I asked you to woo me, not them."

Draco felt every ounce of air in his lungs leave in a single breath. He cleared his throat and asked, "Can I try to make it up to you?" He cringed at how gruff his voice sounded and hoped she didn't notice.

Her smirk said otherwise. "That depends, is this idea yours or one of Blaise and Pansy's?"

"Mine," he said quickly. "All mine."

She smiled at him and kept playing with his shirt making his heart beat louder in his ears. "Then, yes, you most certainly can."

Draco returned her smile. "Join me for dinner."

Hermione sighed and let go of his shirt. "I don't know, Draco. It didn't go well the last time you invited me to dinner."

He reached for her hips before Hermione could step away and pulled her close again. "I know, and that's why we'll eat at my flat. I can't stand you up if you're meeting me where I live."

Her laugh made his heart skip a beat. "Alright, I can't argue that, can I? When do you want to go?"

"Right now."

Hermione looked startled and leaned back to squarely meet his gaze. "Right now?"

Draco smirked at her. "What, do you already have plans?"

"No," she said and rolled her eyes. "But I'm hardly dressed for dinner."

He let his eyes give her an appreciative once over. "I think you look great."

A light blush graced her cheeks. "In that case, I guess we can go." She picked up a small bag that was hung over the banister of the stairs and slung it over her shoulders. She waved vaguely in the direction of the back of the shop and yelled, "Bye, Jacob."

Draco heard a grunt of acknowledgment from the direction of the knitting giant and chose to ignore the man in favor of leading Hermione to the door. The stepped out of the shop and into the small alley next door.

Hermione looked up at him expectantly. "Ready to apparate us there?"

"Almost." Taking hold of her hips once again, Draco backed her up against the alley wall. He reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek. He felt her lean ever so slightly into his touch, and it warmed his heart. He let out a contented sigh before leaning in and kissing her gently. He savored the feeling of her pressed up against him and the sound of her hum before pulling away. Her hand pulling the front of his shirt allowed her to steal one more kiss, and then he grinned down at her and said, "Okay, now I'm ready." Draco wrapped his arms tightly around her and apparated for his flat.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Check the end of the chapter for a quick note and poll!**

 **-..-**

Hermione felt Draco's hands firmly on her back helping to soothe the brief nausea apparating had caused. Taking a deep breath as the queasiness passed, she opened her eyes and eagerly took in her surroundings. She was immediately taken by surprise.

The steel blue walls were the last color she was expecting. Accented with rustic, walnut furniture and eclectic piles of books, the apartment was truthfully very fitting. There were bookshelves stuffed past full and tucked in every available corner with a large fireplace in the center of the room. It all gave the space a distinct feeling of home. She wandered the room slowly, taking in the moving pictures of the Slytherin trio on the mantel and the various book titles holding up a lamp. She felt Draco walk up behind her and turned to face him.

"What do you think," Draco asked tentatively.

Hermione gave him a smile and assured him, "I think it's cozy; I like it."

Draco flashed her a grin and gave a dramatic bow. "This way to the kitchen, madam."

"Thank you, kind sir." Hermione gracefully dipped into a deep curtsy.

The kitchen was, in a word, formidable. Stainless steel and void of color, the black and white space was pristine and very well kept. Everything clearly had it's place, and Hermione felt anxious to even look at the room too hard. She hesitated in the doorway and allowed Draco to slip past her.

The ease with which he moved around the space and the comfortable air he gave off eased Hermione's discomfort. She took a steadying breath and asked, "So what are we making?"

"I was thinking," Draco said, his voice muffled inside one of the cabinets. "We could make something easy but still delicious." He reappeared holding a pan and a large grin. "How does ratatouille sound?"

"Sounds perfect." Hermione glanced around the kitchen and felt puzzled. "Where's the cookbook?"

Draco gave her a blank expression. "Cookbook?"

Assuming cookbooks were a muggle thing, Hermione explained, "Well, it's similar to a potions book. It has recipes and instructions you follow to —"

"No, no, I know what a cookbook is." Draco looked mildly insulted and waved the pan in his hand to emphasize his words. "But cooking is _nothing_ like potions. Recipes are only recommended; half the fun is in the invention."

"The invention?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You don't just invent recipes, Draco. They're already made for a reason."

He set the pan on the counter and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…" He walked around behind her, took hold of her shoulders and guided her over to another cabinet mounted on the wall. He reached above her and opened it to reveal an overwhelmingly vast array of spices and ingredients. "If you're going to learn to cook with me, you're going to have to learn," he wrapped his hands around her hips and leaned in, lips brushing against her ear and purred, "to _loosen up a bit._ "

Hermione felt a shiver dance down her spine.

"Now," Draco's tone was all business and commanded her attention easily. "The key to multiple people working in the kitchen together is to always be aware of the other person." He stepped away from her and went to gather needed vegetables.

She cut her gaze away from the labels and over to Draco in time to catch his eyes sweeping from her head to toes and back again.

"You should always be aware of your partner's movements so that you don't run the risk of bumping into each other. In this sense, cooking is similar to dancing. Try not to step on my toes."

Hermione nodded her understanding, missing the quip and not at all distracted by the way he practically prowled around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and utensils. "What do we need to prepare first?"

Draco hummed in thought and ran his gaze over the vegetables and spices they had set out on the counter.

She took the small moment to appreciate Draco in his element. His posture was relaxed yet confident; this was his place and he knew it. He was the master of the kitchen, an artist before a blank canvas. Not for the first time, Hermione felt the itch to sketch him. Draco had been blessed with such paint-able features. She allowed her gaze to wander and took in his broad shoulders barely hidden by his dress shirt. When he turned to speak, his silver lip piercing caught the warm lighting of the kitchen and nearly glowed. It reminded her to ask him back to the tattoo shop for another visit. She'd tattoo him for free if he'd only ask. Anything to trace designs on his flawless skin again.

"Hermione?"

"Sorry," she mumbled while fighting the warm blush she could feel building. "Got lost in thought."

Draco smirked at her and arched a curious eyebrow. "Anything interesting?"

Now she could feel herself blushing in earnest. "No, not really."

Obviously not believing her, Draco stepped up close to her and asked, "If it's nothing, why are you turning such a pretty shade of red?"

Which only made her blush harder. Ears burning, she scrambled for an excuse. "It's, um, hot in here?" She cringed internally. That sounded too much like a question.

"Feels fine to me." Draco's eyes gazed into hers, searching for something she couldn't name.

She sighed quietly when he looked away, the weight of his gaze having been too heavy. She suppressed the urge to fan herself.

Draco slowly held his hand up, palm facing her and said, "You have an eyelash on your cheek. I'm going to wipe it off for you, is that alright?"

Confused as to why he felt the need to ask for her permission to chase away an eyelash, Hermione nodded. She became even more confused, however, when he ever so slowly reached towards her face. So slowly that it almost seemed like he wasn't moving at all.

His gaze was wary and searched her face, looking for any indication that she might, what? Run?

"You don't have to approach me like a wild animal," she chuckled. "I'm not going to bite you."

A startled look passed over Draco's face before embarrassment replaced it, and his hand stilled a hair's breadth away from her cheek. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just used to my mother…" He trailed off quietly, and a darkness came over his eyes.

Hermione reached over and gently placed her hand against his and held it to her cheek. She offered him a smile that she hoped was reassuring and hid her whirlwind of thoughts, most centering on protecting Narcissa Malfoy from every man on the planet.

Draco gave her a small smile back and ran his thumb gently along her cheekbone. His eyes softened, they're usually steely gray holding a tender look in them that she'd never seen before. He allowed himself a few seconds to enjoy the peace of the moment before finally letting go of her cheek and clearing his throat. "Now then, dicing onions."

Noting to approach the topic at a much later, more comfortable time, Hermione grabbed the knife from the counter enthusiastically. "Let's do it!"

He chuckled at her eagerness and used the tip of his finger to slowly lower the knife. "First, you have to get the angle of the wrist right."

Hermione held the onion in one hand and knife in the other, then looked at Draco for approval.

He shook his head and critiqued, "You need to loosen your hold on the knife a bit." He wrapped his arms around her and placed his hands softly over hers, guiding her fingers and wrist into the right positions.

Hermione felt her body still as every nerve became acutely aware of his proximity to her. "Like this?" she asked quietly.

"Perfect," he breathed, lips barely brushing the side of her neck.

She gently set the knife down on the counter and, without turning her head, asked, "My wrist or me?"

He gently guided her to turn around with hands on her hips. "You," he said clearly. There was no hesitation in his eyes. "You are perfect."

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Hermione looked at her toes. "Far from it, actually."

Gentle fingers under her chin tilted her face up so her gaze met his. He took a moment to make sure she was looking him in the eye before he whispered, "You are more than I ever thought to look for, and more than I could ever think to deserve. I've been nothing but terrible to you for so long," his voice broke on the last two words as the weight of their history rested on him. "Thank you for giving me so many chances."

Hermione gave him a watery smile. "You deserve all of them and more."

This kiss, their third kiss, was soft and sweet. So full of a lifetime of unspoken emotions and battles, and heavy with promises. It was savored, committed to memory, and treasured.

And then it was so much more.

Hands in hair, bodies pressed close. Hermione's chest heaved when she forgot to breathe, too caught up in this man who took her by surprise every chance he could.

Draco's head spun as he held her tight, thanking every god he could name for creating such a perfect witch and for making her so forgiving. He kissed her deeply and passionately, aching to show her all the ways he cared for her.

Dinner forgotten, Draco lifted her with ease and set her on an empty kitchen counter. He nudged her legs apart and moved to stand between them, quickly reclaiming her lips. He ran his fingers through Hermione's soft curls then grabbed a handful of them at the back of her head. When he used it to deepen the kiss, Hermione made the most delicious sound he'd ever heard.

Finally taking a moment to catch their breath, they pulled apart and rested their foreheads together.

In the still moment, Draco's mind began to work in overtime. They hadn't even eaten dinner yet, hadn't even made the damn meal, and here he was with her on his kitchen counter. While he'd never say no to Hermione Granger on his counter, this wasn't how he intended for the night to go. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to think she was a one night stand.

As if she could sense his turmoil, Hermione held his face between her hands and gave him a stern look. "Don't you dare take that back."

He looked startled at her reprimand. "Take what back?"

"The kiss. Don't you dare take it back because I won't."

"I just don't want —"

"No," she cut him off. "Don't think my thoughts for me. I'm an adult now, Draco. If I want to make out with you on your kitchen counter, I'll do as I damn well please."

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again at a loss for words. There she went again, always taking him by surprise. Hermione had never been meek, but this confidence was so quiet yet strong. Of course she would do as she pleased, who was he to dictate her decisions?

"If I didn't want you, I wouldn't be here."

She looked so sure, so certain in her decision to be here with him. It erased every doubt he had. Taking a settling breath, he said carefully, "You are the most independent individual I have ever met."

"Thank you," she interrupted him, voice full of pride.

He smiled at her and continued, "I know these last few weeks have been difficult, confusing, and at times bizarre."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the memory of Blaise's attempt at romance.

"I know our history is far from romantic, but I want to do my best to move past it. I also know my history with women is less than kind."

"That's putting it lightly." The smirk she gave him was Malfoy-worthy.

Draco lightly held a hand up over her mouth. "Please stop interrupting. You're making it quite difficult to get my thoughts together." When she didn't say anything else, he took his hand away.

"Is it my interrupting that's making it difficult or," she ran her fingertips lightly down his stomach and felt his muscles twitch under her touch, "is it something else?"

He grunted quietly and grabbed her hand. " _Very_ distracting."

She gave him a saucy wink. "Do something about it."

"I will," he growled, "as soon as I finish."

A shiver of anticipation danced down her spine. "Speak quickly then."

Draco huffed. "All I was trying to say is that I want us to be exclusive. No other woman could compare to you. Your kindness, your passion, your intelligence. You deserve everything incredible that this world has to offer. I only hope I can contribute to your happiness."

The most beautiful smile Draco had ever seen lit up Hermione's face. Her eyes glowed with unadulterated joy. "Of course I want to date you. I thought you'd never ask."

Pure bliss erupted through Draco, filling him with more happiness than he'd felt in a very long time. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she stopped him.

"I think there's a place that's a little bit more comfortable than the kitchen counter."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "The couch?"

Her beautiful laugh echoed through the kitchen. "No, Draco, the bed."

 **-..-**

 **AN: Alrighty, hope you guys liked the update! As always let me know what you think in the comments.**

 **I have an important question for you guys this time about the next chapter. There's two ways I can continue this: Either the next chapter starts with a time skip and we keep the low maturity rating on the story, orrr things can get a little heated and we can bump that rating up. It's completely up to you guys. I'll go ahead and start writing, but give you guys some time to cast your votes.**

 **Happy fall, y'all!**


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